


Diminuendo

by A_Fine_Piece



Series: White Flowers and Red Hearts [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Kissing, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fine_Piece/pseuds/A_Fine_Piece
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hostility arises when the noble head of the Kuchiki family takes a common woman for his wife</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Bleach.

Quick, careless hands grasped for the blue leather book positioned on the shelf.

"No," a hushed voice sounded as the book toppled to the floor with a thunderous "clap".

Furrowing her brows in distress, Rukia Kuchiki knelt down on the wooden floorboards. She was just about to reach for the book when she spotted a bundle of discolored papers lying nearby.

"Hugh?" she hummed softly. "They must have spilt out of the book when it fell," she thought to herself.

Her hand swiftly moved past the book lying open on its side, and reached for the papers.

Eyeing her findings with a discerning stare, Rukia noted that what she held lightly between her fingers was a stack of letters. The muffled sounds of paper scratching against wood filled her ears as she dragged the contents closer. Steadying herself by placing her spare hand against the floor to support her weight, Rukia leaned forward. She lifted the letters off the floor and brought them to rest on her lap.

Straightening her posture, Rukia shifted her weight from the hand she had been using to brace herself, and began untying the red string that held the stack of letters together. Carelessly, she discarded the string on the floor, and began sifting through the papers. Her eyes poured over the beautiful calligraphy penned in black over the now sallow-colored and worn pages.

"Brother?" she said softly, instantly recognizing the handwriting as his.

Somewhat intrigued as to what he could have taken the time to write only to stuff into a book to be forgotten, Rukia hungrily took in every character, every fine stroke he used to construct the words. Her eyes greedily flickered up and down the page.

It was not until she reached the second letter that she began to absorb some of what she had just read. Perhaps, she would never fully comprehend the meaning of the words written so boldly before her. Perhaps, she would never truly appreciate each subtly contained within the notes - each word chosen for maximum effect with the deliberation her brother was well known for.

Her heart pounded at an accelerated pace in her chest as she sat indignantly on the floor. She raced through each page, soaking in everything she possibly could. Rukia's reading, however, was abruptly disrupted when she started at the sounds of leaves scraping against the pane of a nearby window.

Immediately, Rukia glanced over at the window to see that the once lazy afternoon had dissipated into dusk. 'How long have I been in here?' she wondered silently to herself as she stretched her tired arms and neck.

Sufficiently comfortable, Rukia returned her gaze back to the letters gripped in her hand. There was only one more left, and she still couldn't believe what she had just read. She couldn't believe that  _he_  had it in him to write so… so… lovingly – words of affection. She couldn't believe that hidden stashed in some random book was a clutch of  _love_  letters. It didn't make any sense, but just as sure as she held the papers in her hand were the words written thereon. And what words they were... His writings were never overly sentimental or flowery, but in their simple eloquence they contained a certain kind of beauty – honest, meaningful beauty. His words were never false, trite, or pretentious, nor were his meanings too candid or veiled. Whomever he was writing to, he clearly loved – loved greatly even.

Rukia smiled softly at the thought of the austere and aloof Byakuya Kuchiki in  _love_. The musing itself seemed to be a violation of logic - an oxymoron. Her smile widened as she considered the possibility of her older brother punch-drunk in love. But, this all begged the question: to whom was he writing these letters?

Rukia knew he was a widower. She had been told that he had been married to a woman whom she resembled. She had never been told, however, whether he loved his wife. She had been left to decipher his feelings toward this mysterious woman on her own. Rukia assumed that he must have cared for his wife somewhat to take her in solely because she reminded him of her. However, at the same time, Rukia wasn't sure if this was an action of love or extreme guilt on his part. But, if these letters had belonged to his wife, it would explain why they had been stuffed inside a book - long forgotten in the Kuchiki library.

It would also explain why he refused to look at  _her_.

Rukia felt her body go numb upon reflection.

_'_ _If_ _I_ _look li_ _ke the woman he once loved…_ _'_

She lowered her gaze to the floor at the thought.

'… _i_ _t_ _would explain so much_ …'


	2. Disturbed By Questions

_"Is there anything more?"_  he had asked before departing.

" _Be careful and return simply,"_  had been her reply.

 _Return simply_. The expression still lingered in his mind. The meaning of which implied two things: To return – to come back for her – and to do so without ostentation. Byakuya gave a small inward smile as his thoughts fell to her unassuming nature.

Inhaling deeply, he maintained a quiet state of meditation, staving off the flares of raw emotion churning in the pit of his stomach. His eyes remained closed; his inner world shrouded in darkness as he sat stiffly in seiza position. Every muscle in his body flexed, and every beat of his heart filled him with icy sensations.

 _"_ _Creak_ _,"_  went the door.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to see his servant emerge from the darkness of the chamber. "The Conference has assembled. They are ready to hear your proposal."

Wordlessly, Byakuya took to his feet with an insurmountable amount of grace and poise considering the circumstances. The servant instinctively moved to the side of the door and bowed deeply from the waist. Feeling Byakuya's cold wake chill his skin, he rose and closed the door behind the noble.

The mood was set, and it was looking decidedly grim for his master…

* * *

 

Hisana sat, torn, on her bed in the white, sterile room of the infirmary. Wringing her hands anxiously, she stared into the whiteness of the wall in front of her. She was lost in thought - lost to the wave of chaotic emotions pounding, hammering, her into submission.

 _First_ _came_ _fear_.

Had she made the right choice? Hisana had pondered this question for hours. Obsessively, she thought over her decision careful to scrutinize every repercussion for her action. Why had she so mindlessly, so recklessly, answered him without considering the consequences of accepting his proposal?

 _'Will my stay with him be that of a bird held captive? The cage may be gilded, but it is still a cage after all. No amount of pretty words, jewels, silks, or softly spoken promises will ever change that._ ' Hisana shuddered at the thought. Her heart skipped a beat, and she was sure it had flown up and lodged itself in her throat.

She could not be contained. She was still wild at heart – not some refined  _thing_  that was beyond reproach or censure. She was flawed – perhaps even fatally so. She needed space; she needed time; and, most of all, she desired the freedom to wander aimlessly if need be to find the thing she lost. She had to find the person she held first and foremost in her thoughts – her sister.

 _Then_ _came_ _regret_.

Should she have rejected the offer?

Did she even have the right to reject the offer?

Hisana turned her gaze to the wooden floor. Regret bubbled inside of her, flooded her, and flowed through her veins as she considered her predicament.  _'How can I be so ungrateful?'_  she thought mournfully to herself. Byakuya Kuchiki was one of the most respected among those in Soul Society. He was an honorable and kind man.

She shut her eyes and lowered her head as she drew up his picture in her mind's eye. It was all too painful. How could she even consider the thought of saying, "no," to him? Even if he was the most wretched man in the universe, he belonged to one of the four noble families, and she was scum… She was nothing – a lowly excuse for a soul. She did not deserve such a life.

Hisana fought through the burning urge to cry as her mind drifted.  _'What if I am never allowed to search for her? What if…'_  The thought proved too painful to finish.

 _Then there was despair_.

She craved simplicity; she craved consistency, but, most of all, she craved safety. She had been thrown into a cruel, heartless environment, and she was weak. She had always been weak – no real spiritual pressure to speak of, no real physical strength to note, even her health was in a constant state of repair. If only she had been a little stronger, a little wittier, or smarter, she would not have been driven to commit the ultimate crime – abandoning the one you love.

Her actions would always haunt her. Feral animals would not have done what she did to her baby sister. She left her own kin nameless, helpless, and alone in Inuzuri. And now she had the nerve to accept the offer for a better life… She had the  _nerve_  to be happy.

_Finally,_ _came_ _the urge to flee._

Hisana shivered uncontrollably at the last thought - happiness. Had it become only a word to her, devoid of all connection to meaning and feeling?

_'_ _What happiness could I possibly offer him?_ _What comfort could I provide?_ _My emotions – my heart_ _– they are_ _forever tainted by my transgression.'_

Still swimming in the deluge of conflicting emotions, Hisana lifted her head to gaze out the window. It would be so easy… It would be so easy to flee the infirmary and return to the lower districts.

_'It would be so much better, Hisana._ _Better for the both of you._ _He doesn't speak the words, but you know how much he suffers – how much he will suffer if he takes you for a wife. He is a noble, and you are a mere street urchin in a classist society. He will be ridiculed. His association with you will bring him dishonor. This union_ _will_ _leave an everlasting stain on his family name. How can you be so selfish?'_

No longer able to contain herself, she felt the warmth of tears streak in rivulets down her cheek.

_'There you go again, Hisana._ _Running away from your_ _commitments._ _This really is a_ _nasty_ _habit you_ _have developed_ _…'_

The warring emotions had finally swallowed her whole, and spat her out.

_'What do I do?'_

Torn, broken, and upset, Hisana sat on her bed in that white, white, white room.

* * *

 

The chamber was dark, cold, and dank. The mood of the room, however, was much worse. Hostility, anger, and disapprobation fell like a heavy blanket over him. The tension lingering in the air was both thick and stifling.

"Come to the center, Lord Byakuya Kuchiki." The words were pronounced with the crisp and sharp intonation possessed only by one Mao Watanabe.

Byakuya's expression grew impassive, and his eyes deadened as he complied with the request.

"The Twelve Honorable Families under the Kuchiki banner have gathered to review your proposal," Watanabe announced ceremoniously. "The proposal under review concerns your decision to select a wife suitable of the title Kuchiki, correct?"

The question was only a formality. "Yes," Byakuya answered; his voice clipped.

"You do realize the gravity of this decision? The woman chosen as the Lady of the Kuchiki residence will, in turn, preside over us, your faithful subjects."

"Yes," he responded firmly.

"You do realize that if we, for any reason, find your decision disagreeable, we may choose to dissociate ourselves from the Kuchiki banner thus costing the Kuchiki name its prestige?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Let us proceed," Watanabe said, positioning his glasses high on the bridge of his nose. "You have selected Hisana," he said, making sure to enunciate every letter in her name as he read it from the form in front of him.

Almost instantly, the chamber erupted in a fit of hushed whispers and movement as nobles leaned in to share their reactions with one another.

Once the whispers had subsided, Watanabe lowered his head slightly so he could view Byakuya over the frames of his glasses. "Who is this woman? I am not familiar with her or her family's name."

"You are not familiar with her name because she has never been made apparent to you."

Watanabe's aged face grew harsh, almost worried, as he looked down at his benefactor. "She  _is_  at least of noble birth, correct?" his voice sounded pleading.

Byakuya repressed the urge to smile in response. He could not, however, hide the glint that now lit his dark eyes. "No. She is a commoner."

He could almost feel the air in the room being sucked in to fuel the collective gasps of the twelve nobles seated in the elevated platform circling the perimeter of the room. A calm chaos erupted as the twelve discussed what had been long suspected but never confirmed... until now.

"How  _common_  is she?" Watanabe asked, raising his voice above the confusion.

"I did not realize there was a hierarchy in place for commonality," Byakuya answered drily.

" _What_  District does this  _girl_  come from?" Watanabe said incredulously.

"The Seventy-Eighth District." His voice rang clearly throughout the room.

Again, an explosion of gasps and whispers filled the chamber.

"Lord Kuchiki," Watanabe growled, enraged by the thought that they had fallen prey to some cruel prank on Byakuya's part, "you  _do_  realize that it  _is_  against your  _honorable_  family's code to allow for marriage among commoners."

"I am aware of my family's code," Byakuya responded evenly.

"Then, clearly you have forgotten the purpose of marriage, Lord Kuchiki. It is a business transaction between nobles for the purposes of providing an heir and uniting two families in power and harmony."

"I am quite aware of the reasoning behind such marriages."

"Then, either I must conclude that you care not to respect the code of your own family, or that you believe you are above censure."

Byakuya calmly shut his eyes as he inhaled a deep breath. "Believe about me what you wish. This is my decision."

"Why, Lord Kuchiki?" The sudden change in pitch and tone shattered Byakuya's calm resolve; he immediately opened his eyes and scanned the panel to find that it was Lady Sen who addressed him. "You are a man of reason – of honor. Why? If it is love or passion you seek then you could always take this woman as your courtesan. You do not need to invoke the institution of marriage over something this trifling. This indiscretion comes at the risk of lowering your family's prestige!"

Byakuya lifted his head regally. "My decision is final. Do as you must." With those words, he forced a slight bow before turning on his heels and parting company.

The moment he exited the chamber, he was greeted by his servant who quickly drew to his side. "Is all good and well, milord?"

Byakuya shot the boy a sidelong glance in response.

The servant straightened stiffly upon receiving his master's gaze and shuddered. He had never seen eyes convey such confliction in his entire life.


	3. Breathe In

Long pink ribbons, tied around low hanging tree branches, fluttered lazily on the breeze.

It was beautiful, Hisana thought to herself as she pulled her robes tightly around her. She was leaning with her shoulder pressed against the door frame; her arms were folded against her stomach in an attempt to fight off the morning's chill.

She watched in silent contemplation as a pack of children wandered into the garden and started their way over to the tree. Absently, she smiled the moment she saw the young ones. It was a small painful smile. Most of the children housed in the infirmary would never fully recover…

"Miss Hisana!" one dark-headed little girl cried. She flailed her arms about, making exaggerated circles in order to get Hisana's attention.

Hisana's smile widened and she gave a small wave in return.

"Miss Hisana, help! Please?" the girl's voice was pleading as she lifted her arm to expose a brightly colored ribbon dangling from her hand. "I can't reach!"

Hisana lifted her index finger to indicate that she would be there in a moment. Slinking into her room to slip into her footwear, she breathed a sigh, happy to oblige. Just as soon as she had disappeared from the girl's sight, Hisana reappeared with sandals on her feet, and a haori about her shoulders.

"Thank you, Miss Hisana. You are so kind!" the girl exclaimed, raising her arms so that Hisana could lift her to reach the only low-hanging tree limb that was still bare.

Hisana bent down to gather the girl in her arms before lifting her. "Is this better?" she grunted, hoisting the child upwards, bracing some of the girl's weight against her hip.

"Much!" she exclaimed, hurriedly tying the ribbon around the branch. "Does it look good?" she asked, wrapping an arm around Hisana's neck.

Hisana readjusted her hold around the child to accommodate her sudden shift in weight. Feeling secure, the girl rested her head against Hisana's shoulder. "Does it?" she prompted again.

"It looks stunning," Hisana assured her, tenderly placing her head against the girl's.

Silently, she appreciated the gentle flutter of ribbons on the wind, the fragrance of the flowers in full bloom, and the soft noises of children playing a game in the background. So caught up in the beautiful distractions around her, Hisana had completely forgotten all about her dilemma. In her own little world, she was lost to everything… until her world came crashing around her once she was alerted to the faint snores tugging at her ear.

Glancing down at the slumbering child, Hisana smiled sweetly and turned on her heels. She had just lifted her gaze to the door when she felt her heart come to a halt with a resounding "thump". Thunderstruck, Hisana paused mid-shuffle. Her eyes widened the moment she saw him, and she was sure that if she hadn't been carrying something so precious, she would have dropped it.

Regaining her composure, she continued forward, stopping just short of him. Instinctively, she averted her gaze to the floor and bowed her head respectfully. "Lord Kuchiki," she whispered almost imperceptibly.

Placing his forefinger under her chin, Byakuya gently lifted her head up so he could look into her eyes. She was reluctant to let him have his way, for the moment she inclined her head she turned her gaze to the side. She was terrified of staring into those piercing eyes of his, fearing that with one look he could shed away all of her layers of armor thereby completely exposing her.

The tense moment, however, was broken by the sound of an abrasive female voice. "Kim! There she is!" The voice belonged to a short rotund nurse from the pediatrics' ward. "I hope she has not inconvenienced you too much, Lord and Lady Kuchiki."

Hisana's complexion immediately blanched at the woman's gaffe. With breath held tightly in chest, her attention shot over to her betrothed. Byakuya, however, seemed unperturbed by the nurse's faux pas.

 _'Perhaps,_ _he did not_ _hear it?'_  she thought to herself.

"Kim just sort of stole away this morning. Quite a little escape artist if I do say so myself," the nurse continued apologetically as she relieved Hisana of the girl.

"She is a good girl," Hisana said kindly. Carefully, she untangled the child's arms from around her as she handed her over to the nurse.

"Indeed," the nurse answered with a small smile. "Please, pardon the intrusion." She gave a quick parting bow before scuttling down a corridor with Kim in her arms.

Hisana watched the two until they disappeared from sight. Still hesitant to turn and address Byakuya, she folded her arms defensively against her chest before realizing that she no longer had anything to distract her attention from him. Cautiously, she turned to face him.

"You're wearing the haori I gave you," he observed in a soft voice.

Summoning enough nerve to glance up at him, Hisana managed a small nod of her head. "Yes. I like it very much."

She swore she could have seen his lips lengthen into a small smile if only for a blink of an eye.

"It suits you," he responded, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them.

Hisana's cheeks flushed with color – a deep shade of pink. For a few long drawn out moments, she stood dumbfounded; her mind slow at apprehending a reply.

"I need to collect my things," she said, finally remembering  _why_  he had come – to take her to his estate. At the thought, she felt her heart pound heavily in her chest as a heady feeling overcame her. She would be taken to the Seireitei... and she did not find the prospect very comforting…

"Your things have already been packed," he said evenly. With a graceful gesture, he offered her his arm, and escorted her to the carriage awaiting their arrival outside.

The walk to the carriage was not nearly as long as Hisana would have liked. In fact, she stalled the moment she crossed the threshold to the infirmary and into the harsh morning light outside.

"Is something amiss?" he asked, glancing down at her.

Hisana returned his gaze; her eyes probing his in search for any expression of emotion. His taciturn nature made it hard for most to decipher any feelings hiding behind that fortressed face. Yet, she was sure that she could detect a glint of concern lighting his eyes; although, she couldn't be sure… Perhaps, it was only an optical illusion?

"No," she murmured, shaking her head slightly.

Once the two were near the coach, Byakuya helped her inside before attempting to climb in beside her.

The moment she was in the carriage, she felt her blood pressure skyrocket along with her heart rate. Feeling anxiety bubble inside of her and spew from every pore, Hisana gave a cursory scan of her surroundings. She was beginning to feel like a caged animal, and before he had the chance to join her inside the carriage she leaned forward. A frantic expression was etched into her features. "Wait," she cried.

Confused, Byakuya lifted his brows slightly in response.

"The ceremony," she stammered, "what – where is it going to be?"

Her blood ran icy through her veins the moment she realized that they had never so much as discussed what the wedding was going to entail. Perhaps her utter disbelief at getting married had stifled such consideration from ever entering her head, but now, in a cold panic, she realized that she needed to know what exactly was going to happen to her.

Byakuya examined her expression with a discerning eye. He easily read the fear, panic, and anxiety painted across her face. Silently, he climbed into the carriage and positioned himself comfortably beside her.

"It will all be taken care of shortly. There is no need for concern."

"What kind of ceremony?"

"A traditional one."

"With many people?"

He lifted his head, astutely reading her concern. "What sort of ceremony do you desire?"

This question silenced Hisana. She had never thought about it. But before she had formulated an opinion, her mouth engaged, "A small one, a quiet one."

The moment she gave her response, she turned her attention to him. Half afraid that he would be angry or disgusted by her reply, she winced slightly the moment her eyes met his. To her pleasure, he did not seem unsettled by her answer. In fact, she was almost certain a look of relief had crossed his stoic facade.

"You want a simple ceremony?"

She nodded her head. "Very simple."

"I could arrange for the Minister of Social Affairs to give the rites at the Ministry. There would be no ceremony involved; it would be a short legal union."

Hisana bowed her head, repressing the urge to shudder at the coldness of the proposition. "Perhaps we could have something a little less  _clinical_  than that."

Byakuya tilted his head to the side as he tried to gauge her reaction. Gently, he took her hand in his.

Instinctively, she lifted her head in response; her gaze lingering on his face for longer than she had intended. In that moment, she felt her worries melt away from her, and she realized that indeed everything was going to be alright.

Hisana offered him a smile before turning her attention to the window on her right. Absorbed in the beautiful spring scenery careening past, she felt her body finally relax. "We could be wed here," she suggested aloud to her own chagrin.

"In the First District?" he asked, somewhat baffled.

The moment he asked the question, she felt every fiber in her body tense. She slowly turned her head to read his expression. Her large eyes met his gaze, and her lips parted. "Unless…"

"Springtime in the Seireitei is far superior to this."

She inhaled a sharp cold breath. "But…" she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. She felt too selfish for even considering the musing let alone expounding it to Byakuya. He, however, didn't need to hear her explanation to understand her feelings - and valid feelings they were. She would be lost in a sea of unfamiliarity in the Seireitei, even more so than she was now. It was only fair, he thought, that they go about their marriage in neutral territory. Most of the plans for them marrying in the Seireitei were tentitive - nothing had been carved into stone yet. And, conducting the ceremony in the First District provided the additional benefit of keeping the marriage as quiet as possible for as long as the two deemed necessary to acclimate to each other.

"Very well."


	4. Sky Blue Sky

"Sugii," Byakuya called to his counselor in a low even voice.

The old man had become extremely sensitive to the voice of his master, and instinctively left what had been occupying his thoughts. Crossing into the corridor of the estate, Sugii's eyes scanned the hallway until he spotted his master standing in front of one of the windows looking out onto the garden. Immediately, he knew what had caught his master's attention – Lady Kuchiki.

"Yes, milord?" he responded, bowing low as he spoke the words.

"Give me your sincere assessment of my wife."

Sugii's heart stopped, and his jaw fell slack. He didn't  _know_  how to respond to such an idle command. "I," he began, at a loss for words. His lips smacked closed as he contemplated the social intricacies that underlie the seemingly innocuous command.

His stalling, however, garnered him an icy stare from Byakuya.

"Milord, if I may speak frankly, I find Lady Kuchiki unlike any other I've served." He felt somewhat satisfied by his response, realizing that it could be taken whatever way his master wished.

"Explain your meaning."

Sugii's cheeks heated and his old eyes widened. For a brief moment, he suspected his master of sadism. Why else would Lord Kuchiki torture him so if there was no enjoyment to be had?

"I… ugh…" he stammered. "Master, the Lady is very kind and pleasant,  _but…_ " Sugii cringed the moment the word "but" left his tongue. "She is wild," he added quickly, hoping against hope the next statement that left his mouth would work to help him… However, due to the words that escaped him, Sugii was sure he would have more explaining to do…

Byakuya lifted a brow and shot him a stare that begged the counselor to continue.

Collecting his wits about him, Sugii lowered his head. "Lord Kuchiki, the Lady is most agreeable in disposition. Her handmaidens love her dearly, Miss Murasaki especially."

"But, she is  _wild_." Byakuya spoke the word, " _wild_ " as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Indeed, Master."

"Are her manners lacking?"

"No, sir. Not in the least." Reading his master's befuddled, if not slightly agitated, expression, Sugii quickly added, "Look at her sitting in the garden. Where does her line of sight lay?"

"Just slightly over the wall – sky bound."

Feeling his body heat as his confidence returned, Sugii dared to incline his head. "If I was an artist, milord - which everyone knows I am most decidedly  _not -_ but if I was, I would paint her in the most  _violent_  and vivid colors I could find. I would paint her shrouded in a war of color, milord. Like the sky in morning or the sky at sunset."

"She is unhappy, then?"

Sugii could almost feel his Lord's heartbreak. "I do not know her heart. But, I believe she is content."

_'A bird in a cage may be content, but it is still a caged thing…'_

"Do you wish for me to inform her of your arrival, milord?" Sugii asked, bowing his head respectfully.

Byakuya's gaze remained on his wife as he contemplated the question.

"She seems happier in your company," Sugii added, but the moment he looked up to view his master, he found himself alone.

**Sky Blue Sky**

The soft scratching of a wet brush against paper was the only perceptible sounds coming from Byakuya's side of the room. Hisana found the rhythm of his pen brushing the documents almost melodic as she sat a few feet away arranging flowers in a vase. Occasionally, her eyes would dart over to him, and she would smile upon seeing the earnest expression he wore while examining the papers.

She was almost certain he was aware of her watching him.

And, then she would return to her flower arranging – a skill at which she was vastly improving, she had to admit. At first, the arrangements were rather pathetic. The colors were far from appeasing to the eye, and the varying lengths of the flowers looked more haphazard than intentional. Byakuya, however, would always admire the arrangements as if they were the most delicate creatures he had ever seen. And, she would laugh in response, all too aware of just how bad they were.

Hisana smiled as she thought back on the instances. It was true that she didn't have many memories with her new husband, but those, she hoped, she would always remember…

"You've improved."

Hisana started, feeling her blood run icy upon hearing the unexpected sound of his voice. Usually when he had completed his paper work, she heard the soft "tink" of him replacing his pen. Collecting herself, Hisana finished placing a vibrantly colored Chinese bellflower into the vase before turning her attention to him.

She grinned knowingly the moment their eyes met. "Ah, so you  _knew_  my first attempts were rather tragic?"

A faint smile crossed his lips in response.

"Yet, you looked at them so adoringly," she added, slyly shaking her head.

He lifted a brow. "Did I?"

She chuckled. "At the time, I thought that you just had bad taste. I'm glad to know that wasn't the case."

He looked at her somewhat amused, somewhat taken aback by her candor. "I must be a better actor than I thought," he replied softly to himself.

"But, I think you just said my skills were improving because I've taken to adding your favorite flower to the arrangements," she said sardonically before returning her attention back to the vase.

He smiled to himself as he watched her delicate hands go to work at putting the finishing touches on her arrangement.

"Do you like it?" she asked abruptly, looking over at him quizzically.

"Yes," he answered evenly; his eyes, however, were fixed on hers.

"You're not even looking," she said softly, scooting the vase forward a few centimeters to catch his attention.

Byakuya lowered his gaze and inspected the arrangement.  _'A war of color,'_  he thought lugubriously to himself. It was a very attractive clash of reds, yellows, blues, and purples – all of varying hues – but nonetheless, it was stormy display.

"You look sad," she noted aloud. "If the arrangement afflicts sadness on those who see it, then I'll tear it apart and start anew."

"No," he stated firmly – far more firmly than Hisana was used to hearing him address her. He shook his head, and shut his eyes briefly in an attempt at clearing his mind. "I just have been putting something off."

"And, the flowers remind you of whatever you've been putting off?"

"Hisana, I'll be gone for a few weeks…"

She lifted her brows and cocked her head to the side. "For the qualifications training, right?"

His gaze shot over to her. His brows furrowed questioningly. "How did you -"

"I read that letter to you, remember? It was a week or so ago. You came in late, and were sitting at your desk eating dinner and I was sitting there," she said, gesturing to the front of the desk. "You were tired so I read you some of the letters you had brought home. But, I think you were half asleep when I read it to you, though…"

His eyes were quiet as he watched her. "I remember now."

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

"Three weeks."

Her eyes widened at the news. "That long? What are they making you -"

"Every decade all the captains must go through captaincy qualifications to make sure they -"

"But, you haven't been a captain for ten years."

"New captains must go through the qualifications regardless of how many years served."

Hisana forced a small smile as her gaze trailed to the floor. "When do you leave? The letter I read was long on bombast but short on specifics."

The corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. "Most of the letters I receive are bombastic."

Returning her attention to her husband, she smiled in response.

"I leave tomorrow."

Her lips sloped into a frown at the prospect of his absence. She parted her lips to speak, but no words came. Instead, she nodded her head.

Byakuya viewed her forlorn expression, and turned his gaze to the window just above her head.

"Your presence will be missed," she managed in a soft, almost imperceptible tone.

When she caught his eye, she noticed that he appeared happy to hear so.

* * *

 

The next day was greeted with little joy.

Hisana woke early to take breakfast with her husband. Silence blanketed the pair as they sat at the table. Neither one had so much as spared a glance in the other's direction. The deprivation of sound was painful… or at least the one servant occupying the room thought as he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"How are you feeling?" Byakuya asked softly, still staring into his plate of food.

Hisana smiled slightly in response. He always asked her that same question at least once every day. Sometimes she wondered if he took her for his wife because he felt guilty for her poor health…

She quickly brushed the thought aside. "I am well. How are you feeling?"

The response had become second nature, he assumed. She always replied that she was "well" and she would always inquire about his health. He wondered if she was speaking in honest or if it had just become their morning routine.

He didn't respond. Instead he lifted his head and glanced over at the servant, who immediately sprang forward and took his dish. The servant hesitantly looked over at the Lady of the house to see she had withdrawn from her dish as well. The servant's trembling hand bumped against her bowl of rice, but he quickly stabilized it before it toppled over on the table.

"Forgive me," he whispered softly.

She looked up at him and offered a kind smile in reply.

The servant quickly scurried out of the room and away from the tension lying therein.

Byakuya turned his gaze to his wife. She looked somber, he noted to himself. Inhaling deeply, his lips parted, preparing to say something. Words, however, failed him the moment his eyes met hers.

She smiled knowingly at him. "I know."

He lowered his head briefly before moving to stand. Hisana responded in kind, and the two began their way to the door of the manor. Once they had reached their destination, the servants quickly opened the door for their master, and the two paused short of the doorway.

"Are you not taking the …" she began.

"No. It is a pleasant morning, and I have time. I thought I would walk," he replied, glancing up into the darkness that lay just beyond the door.

 _'Not even the sun bothers getting up at such an early hour_ _,'_  Hisana mused drily to herself.

Byakuya turned his attention from the early morning sky to his wife. And, the two stared at one another wordlessly for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps, they were the only souls in the room that realized it, but there was understanding in that silence – an understanding that words proved too banal to convey.

With a small smile on her part, and an imperceptible nod of the head on his, he turned to cross into the chill of the morning. He, however, was quickly stayed by a gentle tug on his sleeve. He glanced over his shoulder to find Hisana close beside him. She inclined her head, and he bent his in response.

Unexpectedly, her lips chastely brushed against his cheek.

"For luck?" he whispered; his breath warm and heavy on her forehead.

Stretching to reach his ear, she whispered her response. "You don't need luck. You have skill."

For a brief moment, he smiled at her and discreetly kissed her forehead before disappearing from sight.

Hisana folded her arms against her chest, and glanced skyward. The sun was just beginning its ascent into the sky. It would be a beautiful day for traveling, she thought to herself as she imagined the blue sky hiding behind the clouds and darkness.

"Miss Murasaki," she called lightly.

"Yes, milady!" the young handmaiden cried, immediately drawing to Hisana's side like a love-starved puppy.

"Please, follow me to my room." Hisana turned on her heels and began down the winding corridors of the manor until she reached her destination.

"What is it, milady?" Murasaki asked in a hushed voice.

Hisana ignored the question as she slid back the door to her room and stepped inside. "Come, come," she said, gesturing for the girl to enter.

"Lady Kuchiki?"

"Miss Murasaki," Hisana began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Please, just Murasaki, or Hide, or 'Hey You'."

"Miss Murasaki," Hisana began again, "I would like it very much if you would send those letters on my desk to Lord Kuchiki. I would appreciate it if you would send one letter on every first day of the week."

"But, milady, Lord Kuchiki won't be at his office."

"I realize that. But when he returns from training, he will most likely visit his office before he returns to the manor."

"Alright, milady," Murasaki said, bowing her head respectfully. "But," she began, "I… I realize that it isn't my place to question your Ladyship, but why have you already written the letters out if you intend to send them at later dates?"

Hisana smiled at the handmaiden's perceptiveness. "Murasaki, I will be leaving for a short while."

Murasaki glanced up, happy that her Lady addressed her less formally. Then, Hisana's words hit her. "Milady, you are leaving?" she exclaimed.

Hisana quickly looked out the door to her room to find that no one was lingering idly in the hallway before shutting her bedroom door. "Yes, I plan to do some light traveling while Lord Kuchiki is away."

"Does Lord Kuchiki know of this?" Murasaki asked, unsure of whether or not she wanted to know the answer.

Hisana's gaze trailed to the ground in reply.

"He doesn't? Of course not. Why else would you want me to send the letters? Where are you going, milady?"

Hisana looked up at the girl. "I implore you not to speak a word of this to anyone."

"Of course not!" Murasaki cried, bowing deeply at the waist to show her fidelity.

"I will be traveling to Rukongai."

Murasaki's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why?"

"There is a matter there I need to redress."

"But Rukongai is huge! Where in that madness do you plan to go?"

"Inuzuri, the Seventy-eighth District."

"Milady, I would be most terrible if I did not try to convince you to stay here in the manor where it is safe. Rukongai is full of thieves and danger. I don't know what Milord would do if something happened to you!"

Hisana's gaze drifted down to the tatami floor. "Please, Murasaki."

The handmaiden lowered her head in defeat. "As you wish, milady. I will ensure that your letters get out as specified, and I promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Murasaki. You do not know how this greatly pleases me."


	5. Chevalier

Murasaki paced the floor to the room.

To and fro. To and fro.

The back of her hand was pressed firmly against her forehead as she gulped down air when she remembered to breathe. Inhaling deeply, she felt the air sharply catch in her lungs. With a tremor, she was drawn from her panicked state by the sound of someone knocking at the door. Clearly startled, she exhaled a small cry before whirling around to face the noise.

"Yes?" she called, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

"Is Lady Kuchiki still unwell?" It was only Haydee, Murasaki thought to herself.

"Yes," Murasaki managed through clenched teeth. It was a lie – a simple, horrible lie. And, she had gotten surprisingly good at it over the last week. Keeping her Mistress's absence a secret from the rest of the staff had proven to be a rather arduous task that only grew more difficult with each falsehood…

"I'll go fetch a doctor," Haydee replied.

"No!" Murasaki cried out; a cold panic quickly seized her heart.

"But if the Lady is ill…"

"It is merely a cold."

"But shouldn't we make sure? Milord would be most displeased to learn that his wife was in need and we neglected her!"

"She insists that it is nothing more. It is her wish."

"Alright…" Haydee sounded unconvinced.

Murasaki watched as the servant's silhouette shuffled away from the room, and she breathed a sigh in response. It was only going to get more complicated as time passed. ' _What servant in possession of her wits would let her mistress lie ill for three weeks?_ _The rest of the house staff will think me mad!'_  the thought ran through her head. Nervously, she bit her bottom lip before drawing in a deep breath…

Murasaki shook her head uneasily. Haydee presented only a momentary distraction from her previous musing, which was far more bothersome… Her Mistress had been gone a week and she had only received one letter from Ito, who she instructed to follow Lady Kuchiki and protect her from afar.

Murasaki ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to think of all the possibilities which could explain why she had received so few letters. Perhaps her mistress had learned of her deception and blocked Ito from sending her any more messages? Or, perhaps…

Murasaki couldn't bear the thought. "Please, Lady Kuchiki, be safe…"

* * *

 

Hisana had finally made it to the Seventy-eighth District, and now she could finally breathe. It had taken her a week to accomplish the feat on foot, but she couldn't have felt happier. The happiness she was experiencing, however, was only temporary. Her thoughts quickly moved to more weighty matters as she contemplated her mode of action once more. She could spare only a week in Inuzuri to search for her sister before she would have to return to the Seireitei.

Hearing a small rustling sound from behind her, Hisana glanced up and paused. "You know," she sighed softly to herself as she began her way toward the only inn in the area, "you can come out of hiding, Ito."

Hisana heard a loud thud in response to her statement.

"How – how – how did you know, milady?" the servant sputtered as he stumbled forward a few paces.

Hisana helped stabilize the man from falling. "Ito, I've known since we passed through the Thirty-seventh District."

He blushed upon feeling her small hands grasp his arms. They were so delicate and pale – like porcelain, he thought to himself.  _'_ _So pretty, yet so incredibly breakable._ _'_

Snapping himself from his musing, Ito apprehensively turned his attention to his mistress. "Oh, I suppose I wasn't very good at trailing you… I lost you for a moment in that district when you changed clothes. You're pretty good at passing through the districts unnoticed, milady."

She smiled at the compliment… or at least what she  _thought_  was a compliment. "I think I noticed you when you were stopped by the guard back there."

His already pink complexion grew three shades of red in response. "Yes, I'm not very skilled at espionage."

Hisana released her hold on the servant and offered a smile. "Come. There is an inn over there. You can pretend to be my brother."

"But, milady!" he exclaimed, hurriedly trying to match Hisana's gait which, despite her diminutive frame, was pretty quick.

"Ito," she said in a hushed tone, "please refrain from addressing me so. If you call me that here we will surely be attacked by thieves."

"Yes, milady – I mean, ma'am – I mean, sister!" he stammered as he trailed after her.

The pair halted short of the small, rickety looking inn. The sign hanging lopsided above the door read, " _Sunshine House_." The paint was peeling, and a few of the letters were missing… The sign was the least of the edifice's problems, however.

Hisana lowered her head, veiling the smile thinning her lips from her companion's gaze. She was  _home_  in Inuzuri, and nothing had changed for the better. And yet, even though she hated her stay in the town while she was there, she couldn't deny the flutter of her heart upon returning. Compared to the Seireitei, it was a blood-stained, hateful place where man's life was decidedly short, brutish and vile. Anarchy consumed the streets while those in charge of keeping order were too busy trying to improve their own station in life. Yet, even despite all of its flaws, Hisana felt comforted – a comfort she was not afforded as the  _common_  wife of a noble.

Breaking from her thoughts, Hisana observed Ito's expression from the corner of her eye. He was staring at her with a face that flashed panic. Even he, born into servitude, had never stepped foot outside of the bubble of comfort that was the Seireitei, and it was painfully obvious…

Hisana nodded her head slightly as she inclined her gaze to the inn. With quiet determination, she stepped forward. Placing her hand on the door handle, Hisana ignored Ito's gasp as she proceeded inside the cabin.

"We don't get many travelers this far out," an old woman greeted the moment the pair crossed the threshold.

Hisana didn't doubt the woman's words as she made a cursory scan of the small reception area. Those already residing in the Seventy-eighth District either had a "home" or couldn't afford one, and no one in their right mind would come this far out into Rukongai for a "vacation". And, indeed the inn looked like it had fallen on hard times. The cabin was in dire need of repair, and the family occupying it was a motley bunch who all looked two steps from the grave.

"Um, I believe we will need two rooms," Hisana said softly as she approached the rudimentary "check-in counter".

"Milady," Ito whispered as he quickly took her aside, "this place is not safe for you to stay for any length of time. There must be -"

"Ito, this may be the only inn we encounter, and we  _are_  in the Seventy-eighth District. This is the nicest we can hope to find…"

Ito lowered his head in defeat. "Yes, mi – sister."

"Two rooms?" the old woman asked; a toothless smile plastered on her face. "I think we can fix ya up two rooms if ya have some money…"

Hisana nodded her head. "I can pay."

The old woman's smile broadened in reply. "Solo, get the keys to rooms three and four."

"Four!" Ito gasped.

Hisana shot him a stern sidelong glare as she paid for the rooms. The moment "Solo" appeared with the keys, Hisana took the key to room four for herself and handed the other key to Ito.

"Solo, show the  _guests_  to their rooms. It's been a long time… make sure to treat them appropriately."

The big oafish looking man grinned madly at the old woman before beginning up the stairs to the cabin. Hisana and Ito exchanged glances before following the strange man's lead.

"Sister," Ito's voice rang false as he spoke the word, "four is a corner room, let me take it!"

"Why?" Hisana whispered, dubious of the servant's motives.

"Corner rooms are always bad. I read once that they are the easiest ones in which to commit a crime."

Hisana lifted her brows; a disbelieving expression crossed her face. She shook her head, and began down the hallway, stopping short of Solo. "Thank you," she said with a warm voice before bowing slightly.

"Thank you," he echoed, bending at the waist in an attempt to imitate her graceful gesture. He then glanced into her small room. "Your futons are in the closets. The bath is downstairs and on the left."

Hisana smiled, bowed her head, and shuffled into the corner room. Ito followed her example and entered his room. Solo shut both the guests' doors behind them as they entered.

Looking her room over, Hisana spotted the thin partition door dividing the two rooms. With a single thrust, she slid open the door to expose Ito standing on the other side. "If this makes you feel better about the room selection, we can leave this open."

He smiled and bowed in response. "Yes, that will be very good, milady."

She sighed. After placing her satchel of things down on a small table, she wafted over to the window of the room. It was already growing dark outside, and nighttime in the Seventy-eighth District was never good…

"You look distressed, milady."

Hisana shook her head. "I don't have much time to get to Inuzuri and look around before darkness descends."

"If it is not too improper, may I ask why you left the Seireitei for  _this_?"

Hisana glanced over her shoulder and grinned dreamily at the man's question. "I am from here."

Ito went white. He knew the Lady was of common birth… but he never expected  _this_. "But, why return?"

"I am looking for someone dear to me."

"Does Lord Kuchiki know of this person you seek?"

"He knows of my search, but I do not believe he knows the person I seek in specific."

Ito lowered his head respectfully. "If finding this person will make Lady Kuchiki happy, then finding this person will also bring me happiness as well."

"Ito," she said softly, "you're too kind."

"Come, milady, we don't have much time to scour Inuzuri for this person."

She smiled, and quickly withdrew from her place at the window. "Thank you," she replied as the two began toward the door to her room.

"Now, if it wouldn't be too forward of me, may I ask who exactly are we looking for?"

"My younger sister."

"What does she look like?" he asked, sliding the door open for her.

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know. I haven't seen her since she was but an infant."

Ito nodded his head at the grim realization of how hard this task was going to be. "Do you know her name, milady?"

Hisana shook her head. "There is no way of knowing what name she answers to now…"

Ito watched as a solemn expression painted her once fair face. "Don't look so down, milady. I'm sure if anyone can find someone in this wide expanse, it will be a Kuchiki."

She managed a small, disheartened smile. "I hope so…"

As soon as the two began their way out of the inn, they were stopped by a shrill voice.

"You two kids make it back before the curfew, eh? I don't want my only payin' customers to go missing."

Hisana turned to see the old woman sitting with one leg resting lazily against the check-in counter as she leaned back in her chair. A satisfied look was written across her aged features.

"A curfew?" she repeated the old woman's words with precision.

"Didn't cha hear? There's a maniac on the loose."

Hisana's brow fell. They  _were_  in the Seventy-eighth. There were  _plenty_  of "maniacs" on the loose when she resided in the area, and at no time was there ever a curfew in place for the citizens. "How do you mean?" her voice trembled as she tried to digest the information.

"Someone's a blade tester and he's takin' his job a bit more serious than usual… So far he's got one-hundred-eleven victims, and he shows no signs of stopping," the woman said, punctuating the end of the sentence with a cackle.

Hisana clenched her jaws and braced against the chill that trailed up and down her spine.

She was a long way away from anything resembling  _civilization_.

_'Welcome back to_ _Inuzuri_ _…'_

* * *

The Kuchiki estate was bustling with renewed activity… activity that Murasaki hadn't experienced since Lord Kuchiki was in occupation.

"Oh, no!" she hissed, throwing back the door to her room. "He can't be back so soon! It's only been a little over two weeks. He's usually so precise about the time he plans on returning!"

The Kuchiki manor was in a state of panic upon receiving Byakuya. Byakuya, however, appeared rather nonplussed by the chaos his presence seemed to cause as he entered his ancestral home. He was quickly assaulted by a deluge of servants, all of whom tried to make sure he was feeling comfortable. Breaking away from the mob of attention, Byakuya paused halfway down the corridor leading to Hisana's room.

"Where is my wife?" he asked, glancing over at his faithful steward.

The steward shut his eyes before replying.

Feeling for her spiritual force, Byakuya straightened once he had received his answer. "She is not here. Where is she?" he asked calmly.

"Allow me to fetch her handmaiden, Murasaki, milord," he said, bowing low before departing.

When he returned, the young servant was in tow. With a firm hold, the old steward thrust the young girl forward. "Tell Lord Kuchiki where the Lady of the house is," he stated harshly. Murasaki immediately dropped to her knees the moment she met Byakuya's gaze.

"Where is my wife?" he asked evenly.

"Lady Kuchiki is…" She was torn between the promise she made to her mistress and her duty to serve the lord of the house above all else.

"Go on, child," the steward prompted softly.

"I - I," she stammered, glancing up to see her Lord's piercing stare directed downward at her. "She…" she couldn't do it. She couldn't betray the trust of her mistress. She just couldn't. "I can't say."

"I will only ask this one more time: Where  _is_  Lady Hisana?" A deathly calm descended down upon the room the moment Byakuya repeated his question.

Murasaki trembled in response, realizing her master was only this calm when he was fighting back anger. "Milady is gone. She has ventured deep into Rukongai – to Inuzuri," she sobbed.

Byakuya spun around on his heels and quickly began down the hall. His steward followed close behind him, feeling the chill of his master's wake. "Milord, don't take your discontentment out on the poor girl. She was just carrying out the orders of her mistress."

Byakuya shot his servant a stern sidelong gaze. "Why was I not informed of this?"

"No one knew for certain. And, no real harm has been done. Ito has gone missing as well. I'm sure he was sent to accompany the Lady to her destination."

The lines in Byakuya's face tightened as he glanced over at his steward. "She will need someone stronger than Ito to survive Inuzuri."

"Milord, the Lady is from that  _place_. Shouldn't she be capable of dealing with the hardships therein?"

"Inuzuri has become more violent in recent years. Especially so now considering it has been plagued by a series of gruesome serial crimes."

"What?" the old steward exclaimed as he followed his master out of the estate's door.

"There have been reports of a man who has been hired to 'test' blades on unsuspecting souls. Rumor has it that his blades consume the souls it defeats. Their spirits remain trapped inside the swords."

"Milord, you don't think…"


	6. Momentum

Hisana was not sure whether it was a stroke of luck or misfortune that landed her in her current situation…

First, due to the violent serial killings plaguing the district, the borders had become impossible to cross unimpeded. While the boundaries of each district were  _supposed_  to be secured by guards and various other means to ensure that everyone remained in their rightful place, for the most part crossing district lines only required a minimum amount of ingenuity and creativity. But, as of now, the borders were on lock down. And Hisana was now stuck indefinitely in the Seventy-Eighth…

This bout of misfortune was only compounded by the fact that she had ascertained relatively little information regarding her sister… Hisana, however, remained optimistic as she sat situated in that hazy bar. The room reeked of smoke, alcohol, and cheap cologne. The atmosphere was dark and smoky, and the area was blanketed by rich shades of blues and blacks. The shadows lingered so heavily above the patrons, in fact, that she could hardly see the man seated across the table from her.

"The resemblance is remarkable," the strange man addressed Hisana in disbelief. "I thought I had finally found  _that girl_. Mission complete!"

Hisana smiled in response and nodded her head silently. She had spent a week combing Inuzuri for her sister, and the only piece of information she had managed to discover was her name… Or, at least, what she hoped was  _her_ _sister's_ name.

"You mean Rukia?" Hisana asked politely.

Through the thick fog of blue smoke curling around the pair, Hisana was certain she saw a brief flicker of a smile part "Link's" lips.

Link was a brusque, rough-and-tumble kind of guy. His manners were crude and his  _interpretation_  of language even more so. He stood tall at about 180 centimeters, was strongly built, and spoke rather candidly in a low, husky tenor. She had bumped into him at the marketplace where he had mistaken her for Rukia. And, now, here they were in a loud dingy bar. She wanted to know how much he knew about her sister, and why he was searching for her.

"It's unbelievable," he said, leaning forward on the rickety barstool. Further narrowing the space between the two, Link rested his elbows on the table as he sat hunched. Reaching for his pint of stale beer, Link pressed the thick glass rim to his thin lips and downed a swig. Judging from his response, Hisana figured whatever he was drinking had a pungent flavor for he winced before slamming his glass against the table.

"Why are you looking for this Rukia?" she asked softly; her voice, however, was nearly drowned out by the booming male voices in the background.

"Eh," Link said, indicating that he heard her well enough. "I could ask you the same question. Dammit, I thought I finally found her…" he spat aloud, half-drunk, half-annoyed.

"I just have a debt I need to repay," she answered simply.

Wiping his mouth dry with the back of his sleeve, he quirked a brow in response. "Ah, seriously? I thought such actions of civility were only afforded to those in upper class…"

Hisana inhaled deeply, reminding herself  _why_  she was even there – to collect information regarding her sister.

"Anyway, you answered my question, so I suppose it's only proper I do the same for you. I was hired to find this girl. I was given no name, no age, no real location – so you can imagine the client is paying me a pretty penny for my service all things considered."

Hisana lowered her brow, somewhat skeptical of this revelation. "Who hired you?"

"Ah, I can't say. He wanted me to keep all things confidential…"

"If this  _man_  gave you nothing to go on, how do you know I look like this Rukia?"

"I didn't say he gave me  _nothing_  to work off of. He gave me a reference photo," he said, plucking the black and white picture from his kimono and placing it on the table.

Hisana carefully reached for the photo. Pulling it closer, her eyes hungrily examined it.

"It's of his wife," Link said; his voice was somewhat muffled as he downed another gulp of alcohol. "Apparently, this Rukia is the wife's long-lost sister."

Recognizing the photo, Hisana's gaze immediately shot up to the strange man. "Who gave you this?" she demanded. Her once polite disposition melted into a look of irritation.

Raising his hands defensively, he let out a hoarse chuckle. "I said, I can't tell ya."

Hisana's jaws tightened as she brought her emotions back into check. "What do you know about Rukia?"

"Not a helluva lot, to be honest. In fact, I was hoping you could help me out… But it seems you know about as much as I do… It's a wild goose hunt, let me tell ya. The Seventy-eighth district is huge, and the people here all got short expiration dates. The kid is most likely a goner, yanno?"

Hisana inhaled a sharp breath as she contemplated his words. As much as she was fuming on the inside, Link did have a  _point_ … Staying in Inuzuri was not conducive to  _living_  for any great amount of time.

Hisana shut her eyes tightly at the thought. But, somehow, she just  _knew_  that her sister was alive and well. She just _had_  to be…

"This guy's wife must be a real piece of work."

Hisana instinctively raised her brows in response. A quizzical expression painted her features, almost begging him to continue on with his prattling.

"I mean she must be real  _nice._  Or have a pussy made of gold, or somethin'," he added.

Hisana resisted the urge to flinch at his vulgar use of language. Instead, she maintained a stoic façade – a skill she had to admit that she learned well from her husband. "Why do you say that?"

"This guy – let's just say he's  _real_  up there, yanno? Like one of the higher, higher ups. And she? Ah, she's like from this district or lower or something… He apparently went through all sorts of hell in order to even marry this chick. And judging by the photo, she ain't nothing too special in the way of looks…"

Hisana felt her heart drop at the thought that Byakuya's association with her had dishonored him.

Link immediately realized his faux pa. "I didn't mean you no disrespect, ma'am, considering ya look like her and everything!"

She shook her head despondently, dismally waving off the unintentional insult. "What sort of trouble did he have to endure in order to marry  _this woman_?" she asked distantly.

Hisana knew that this arrangement of theirs must have been looked down upon by the other nobles. She understood logically how improper it was for a noble to marry a common woman. She, however, did not know to what extent her husband had suffered; Byakuya had protected her completely from any disputes regarding their relationship.

Link leaned back on the barstool. Finding a comfortable position, he cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, it's all hearsay, really. But, apparently his union with the woman caused some major waves in his clan. A few of his subordinates walked out, costing his family name some prestige." Pausing, he exhaled a chuckle. "I really don't know who was more pissed – his family or the court ladies…" he added, shaking his head. A boyish smile only added to his expression of sheer amusement at the whole ordeal. "It was all so unexpected, because if you met this guy he's  _real_ severe, yanno? Real on the straight-and-narrow, you catch my drift?"

Hisana smiled to herself at the thought. "Yeah, I know…" she managed as she stifled the sob inching its way up her throat.

She knew  _all too well_.

Hisana bit her bottom lip and inhaled deeply. Trying to stave off the burning sensation clawing at her eyes, she quickly turned her gaze to the bar's exit. Eyeing the door intently, she began running through a list of possible things to say in order to excuse herself. But, just as she drew in a deep breath and prepared to speak, a terrible cry could be heard emanating from the street.

"What the hell?" Link muttered, turning back in his seat to face the door behind him.

A dull roar of people asking questions regarding the sound could be heard in the background. Feeling her heart freeze inside her chest, Hisana instinctively dropped down off the tall barstool and made her way to the door.

 _'Something is wrong,'_  she thought, dazed. 'Something is  _terribly_  awry,' she repeated to herself as she shoved the door open.

The bright afternoon light immediately assaulted her, blinding her for a moment as she crossed the threshold of the bar. Once she regained vision, she found herself in the middle of a large crowd.

Soft utterances could be heard sounding from all directions around her: "Do you think it was the serial killer?" "Is this the latest victim?" "Is he still alive?"

Feeling a cold panic seize her heart, stopping it dead, Hisana pushed through the crowd. She might not have had much spiritual energy, but she could have sworn that she recognized the waning presence of the fallen soul who was at the center of the commotion.

"Ito." The name just sort of fell off her tongue as she stood disbelieving, gazing into that familiar face.

Ito was currently sprawled out on the cobblestone ground. His kimono was wet with blood – blood that continued to seep into the fabric of the garment, emanating from the long laceration that stretched across his lower left abdominal quadrant.

Reflexively, Hisana kneeled down at the young servant's side, and caressed the side of his face. He was warm to the touch; sweat beading across his forehead and dripping down his tawny cheek. "Ito?" she called again; her voice remained soft and soothing despite the chaos of the situation.

Drawn from his state of unconsciousness by the sound of his mistress's voice, Ito stirred reflexively. His eyes fluttered before he managed to open them for a brief moment to see Hisana staring down at him. "Milady…" he rasped out.

She quickly shushed him. "It's alright," she reassured him.

He managed a faint smile before closing his eyelids once more.

Hisana glanced up to see Link had followed her out of the bar. Realizing that she had seen him, he pulled away from the group of people who had gathered.

"You know this guy?" he asked, bending down next to her.

Hisana quickly shrugged off one of her robes, and began decimating the garment. Tearing the fabric into long pieces, she went to work dressing the wound. Much to her relief, Ito had not been cut very deeply. But, he would still need to receive immediate medical attention – medical attention not readily available in Inuzuri.

"Mr. Link," she whispered, finally acknowledging the man's presence next to her, "can you help me get him to the district boundary? I promise you'll be rewarded handsomely if you assist me."

Link shot her a disbelieving look before running a clammy hand over his balding head. "Yeah," he said reluctantly, "but there's no way you're gonna be able to get past the guards there."

Hisana's expression became pensive as she thought the situation over. Link was right. She couldn't bypass the guard alone. She  _definitely_  couldn't pass undetected with a waning Ito in tow… But, she couldn't afford  _not_  to do _something_.

"I'll think of something…" she said softly to herself.

Link gave a compliant nod of his head as he hoisted the servant's lanky body up and over his shoulder.

The journey to the district line was far longer than Hisana remembered it being, and Ito was fading with each passing footfall.

Eyeing the small fence that passed as a deterrent for escape, Hisana reminded herself that there was a small medical shop in the next district… It wasn't much, but it was certainly more than the people in the Seventy-eighth could ever hope to receive.

When the three approached the crude looking boundary, they were quickly stopped by the sound of a harsh male voice.

 _'One of the guards,'_  Hisana thought, frozen in panic… And it had looked like they were going to make their escape, too.

"Stop there, fools!" he addressed them firmly.

Link and Hisana exchanged a small glance before deciding to turn to face the man.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, inching ever closer.

The guard was a tall lumbering man, Hisana noted to herself.  _'A thug…'_

In a rare moment of outward discontent, she spat, "I'm trying to get my friend some aid if you don't mind!" Magically, her whole demeanor, accent, and body language changed. No longer stood the passive, subservient lady of the house of Kuchiki – in her stead was the street urchin who had managed to survive the disorder that was Inuzuri.

Link raised his brows as he looked down at the small woman.  _'She's going to get us killed, or worse,'_  he mused wryly to himself.

The guard leaned down; his face just mere centimeters from hers. So close in proximity was he that Hisana could smell the odor of his breath – alcohol and bad meat… "Aw, I'm sorry, sweetie. Your friend have a boo-boo?" he asked condescendingly; his eyes boring into hers.

Reflexively, she clenched her jaws, and curled her fingers into a ball. "Leave us be."

"I'm afraid not,  _sweetie_. You know the rules – back!" he snapped, grasping hold of her arm and shoving her aside.

Hisana was quick to stabilize herself so that she didn't tip over. Placing a hand against the arm that had been affected by that man's touch, Hisana moved a step forward. "You have to let us go!"

Thinking that he had gotten his message across, the guard had turned his back on the threesome, but quickly spun around to face them upon hearing her words. "Apparently, you're either deaf, dumb, or stupid, because I  _told_  you that you can't pass! Now, get the fuck out of here before I kill ya!" He punctuated the last part by drawing his wakizashi from its scabbard at his side.

Hisana stood fast – scared, but nonetheless.

Amused by the woman's foolhardiness, the guard cocked his head briefly to the side as he got a better look at her and her friends. "Now, what makes you think that I wouldn't fucking chop off yer head? Do you really have a death wish? Or do ya just think yer  _special_  or somethin'?"

"You  _have_  to let me pass."

"Why? You someone special? A shinigami who lost her way? Or better yet, a noble?"

Hisana straightened in response. "The latter. Now, move," her reply was surprisingly calm despite the fact that she was resisting the urge to scream at the sheer insanity of her present situation.

Link, however, shifted his weight nervously as he gazed down at the small woman standing a meter in front of him. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed low under his breath. " _You're_  Lady Kuchiki, aren't you?"

"Ha!" The guard sneered at the thought. " _You_  think  _you're_  a  _noble_? And, a Kuchiki at that?" He laughed… hard. "And I'm a monkey's uncle."

"I wouldn't dispute that," Link muttered quietly to himself.

"You know what, little girl. Calling yourself something you're  _not_  either falls under fucked-in-the-head or treason. Now considering I  _don't_  think you're a loony, I think it's time I sent you  _far_ _away_." He quickly reached to apprehend her, but Hisana snatched her arm away. Angered by this display, the guard raised his hand menacingly in preparation to slap her. But, just as he was about to do so, his efforts were suddenly stopped.

Hisana winced, ready to feel the sting of the man's force against the side of her head, but when nothing happened, she dared to glance up. Her eyes instinctively widened an inch upon seeing the man's arm held captive by another… Immediately, she glanced over to her two companions, neither of which were either close enough or conscious enough to have been the ones to stop the brutality.

 _'Oh, no!'_  Shutting her eyes, Hisana felt the coldness of a familiar presence wash over her…

"A captain!" the guard sputtered; his bravado quickly deteriorated as he stood shaky. "I didn't – I didn't  _know_."

"You doubted my  _wife's_  word?"

The sound of Byakuya's voice sent a shiver down her spine – flooding her with coldness. Turning her cheek to the side, Hisana bowed her head low and inhaled a deep breath… Right about now, she would have preferred the guard as her opponent… he, at least, would have proven easy to circumvent.

"I'm so sorry! It's just – It's just –"

" _It's just_  what?" Byakuya's voice remained even, low, and devoid of emotion. All of which, in Hisana's experience, were never a winning combination for the person to whom it was directed.

"I dunno know! Forgive me my ignorance!"

Byakuya may have released the man's arm, but the man was still caught in the crosshairs of the captain's gaze. The gaze proved more bothersome than the temporary physical restriction had, thought the guard…

"Ignorant, I don't doubt you are," he responding scathingly. "Now, go."

Seeing this as a chance to run, the guard quickly made an attempt at bowing before ducking into a nearby watchtower.

"Steward," Byakuya called, clearly addressing his servant by his rank rather than name to emphasize his displeasure at the matter.

"Yes, milord," the man answered, bowing low upon drawing to his master's side.

"Take Ito back to the carriage."

"And the Lady?"

"I still need to speak with her."

Hisana shut her eyes for a brief moment before exhaling. Her back still remained facing her husband, and she was still debating whether or not to turn to address him. Link managed to make eye contact with her before following behind the steward; his eyes were wide and apologetic about the situation – almost as if he was offering his condolences.

Losing sight of Link and Ito in her peripheral vision, Hisana collected her wits about her and turned to face Byakuya.

He stood just as she had imagined he would be. His posture was positively straight; his eyes were probing; and the lines of his face were strict in the sense that they betrayed no emotion. He, at times, could prove impossible to read. But, living with him for the last three months had made Hisana exceptionally adept at picking out the flaws in his well polished armor. First, his hands were relaxed, not balled into fists. Secondly, his eyes were not narrowed nor was his gaze particularly piercing. The most tellingly aspect of his body language, however, was the fact that his shoulders did not carry tension, but rather were slightly sloped.

As Hisana examined him, she came to the conclusion that he probably wasn't  _angry_. Displeased? Most definitely. Perhaps, even distressed by her actions.

Lowering her head in a way that betrayed her defeated demeanor, Hisana opened her mouth to speak her part. "You're displeased with me."

He didn't flinch.

"I apologize for my actions," she began, but before she could continue he interrupted her.

"You were dishonest," he said, finally breaking his silence.

Hisana immediately looked up at him in return. "I do not deny it. And, speaking sentiments of regret for my actions would be a betrayal of my feelings."

"You do not regret this?"

To her ears, he sounded somewhat astonished. But, she couldn't decide whether he was shocked by the fact that she refused to feel regret for what she had done or by the fact that she refused to grovel for forgiveness.

"Let me rephrase that," she said softly. "I feel no regret for my intentions, nor can I wholeheartedly. To do so would be an act of dishonesty itself. What I do regret is what became of poor Ito."

He lifted his head either absently or proudly – Hisana could not decipher which.

"I understand," he stated unemotionally as he turned on his heel.

It was a lie, she thought bitterly to herself. "No. I don't think you do."

Glancing up at him, Hisana saw the sudden change in how he carried himself.

_Now, he was angry._

"I could be foolish enough to ask for your forgiveness for my deception. But, I know that you would never truly forget the instance. And perhaps you secretly despise me for my act of betrayal. I betrayed your trust, and I am sorry for that. But, if you would be so generous as to answer one question: If I had told you my intentions, would you have honored my desires or would you have stayed me?"

"I would deny you nothing."

Hisana nearly let out a sob at his reply. "Then why did you hire Link? Why do so when I asked you to leave this matter to me, and me only? You've already denied me the only request I've ever made of you."

The tension in his shoulders diminished as he inhaled a deep breath. "I wished to relieve you of this burden."

Hisana shook her head as she fought back the tears. How could she be angry at him? It was all so frustrating – so utterly frustrating. "I am truly sorry. I assumed too much. You deserve a -"

"Don't finish that sentence," he said, abruptly cutting her off.

Before she had time to respond, he slowly began moving forward - away from her. "Are you coming?" he asked, slowing his step.

"Coming where?"

"Back home."

 _'Home,'_ Hisana clenched her jaw at the thought as she wiped away the tears.

"Lord Byakuya…"

He stopped dead in his tracks. In the entirety of their marriage, she had never referred to him so intimately.

"My sister – she is here, in this district. I know it. I can  _feel_  it. However, I fear…" she paused, finding herself unable to properly articulate her concern.

"What do you fear?"

"I fear what may become of her or anyone else with this killer on the loose. I fear for those trapped here in Inuzuri. I fear… I fear…"

 _'I fear that you'll never be able to look at me the same way again…'_ She could never utter those words aloud. She could never reveal to him her feelings. Not here, not now, perhaps not ever. But at this thought she finally felt herself let go and fall apart…

Turning to address her, Byakuya observed her distress. He observed her frustration and guilt as they expressed themselves as sobs and tears.

Averting his gaze, he spoke. "I will see to it that your fears are no more."

He observed her once more. He observed the bittersweet smile she managed even despite the tears.


	7. A Bad Dream

Out of the frying pan and into the freezer – Hisana's situation had grown considerably more problematic…

Her husband had seen to it that she accompanied Ito back to safety. And, "safety," as defined by Byakuya, meant traveling  _far, far_  away from Inuzuri. It only took a few furlongs, however, for the bitter sting of guilt and worry to wear away her once calm resolve. In other words, she had managed to abscond when the first opportunity presented itself.

And, now she was meticulously inspecting the abomination that was her current surroundings.

A chill trailed its way down her spine as she bent to examine the blood spatter dotting the walls of the makeshift tent. The closer she neared, the more pungent and oppressive the air around her became. The odor in the small tent was already an acrid mixture of disease and waste. The added aroma of what smelt like carrion quickly triggered Hisana's gag reflex.

Recovering from a wave of nausea, Hisana pulled her wrap tightly around her shoulders, and proceeded with caution. "I can't believe  _this_ ," she murmured, quickly pressing the back of her hand to her lips. Lifting the lantern she was carrying, she scanned the corner in search of the odor's source. Her bright eyes trailed down to the dirt floor to find a partially open wooden box stationed against the side of the tent. Haphazardly draped atop the box was a stained sheet of fabric.

Hisana gently tugged at the sheet, unveiling the box in its entirety. "Oh, my…" Clearly taken aback, she immediately turned her head to the side.

She had only caught a glimpse of a lifeless and discolored leg dangling down the side of the box. That glimpse, however, was enough to confirm her suspicion that the tent housed some of the killer's victims…

Steadying herself, Hisana lowered her head and returned her gaze to the remains of the victim. Slowly bringing the lantern forward, her eyes followed the trail of warm light cast over the area; however, wherever there was light there was also shadow. Dark, inky shadows veiled much of the killer's accoutrements from her sight. For this, she was grateful.

Kneeling down on the cold, moist ground, Hisana could feel her throat tighten and the bile in her stomach churn as she gracelessly flung the top of the box back. Reflexively, she placed a sleeved wrist against her mouth, and inhaled deeply. She tried to soak in the fragrance of the perfumed fabric, but the sweetness of her white plum perfume was no match for the odor encompassing the killer's little house of horrors.

Aghast and filled with disgust, Hisana repressed the sob inching its way up the back of her throat. The dimly fading light of her lantern shed a soft orange luminescence on the bloated and graying body of a small dark-haired child. Her dismantled body had been discarded like garbage in the box – left to rot. The image of the broken child had permanently seared itself into Hisana's mind's eye.

Was the killer really so disturbed as to leave a decaying body in his own home? From the reports, it had seemed as if the man committing these crimes was doing so under commission. Blade-testers weren't an uncommon find this far out in Rukongai, but those who chose such a profession were usually employed by those who had actually foraged the swords.

 _'If he's employed by a_ _swordsmith_ _then why would he keep the body of one of his victims in his own house?'_ Hisana grimaced at the observation. "On second thought, I don't  _want_  to know," she muttered to herself.

Throwing a nearby tarp over the girl, Hisana gently rocked her weight back on the heels of her feet. She was just about to stand when she heard the snap of a tree limb sounding from outside the tent. Immediately, her heart stopped and her blood ran icy.

Hearing the muffled sound of the flap to the entrance of the tent being lifted aside, Hisana felt a cold panic wash over her, and she remained frozen in a kneeling position.

"Aw, so rare! So rare indeed to have my prey find me!"

 _'I can't move… I can't move!'_ her thoughts screamed as she tried to turn to face her opponent, but to no avail.

"So fragile, so very fragile you are." His voice was deep and abrasive.

Holding her breath so as to reduce the amount of noise in the room, Hisana strained to locate the stranger's position. The muted sounds of his sandals thumping against the dirt were becoming louder and louder as he crept towards her.

"What a pretty piece to add to my  _collection_. Yessh, to  _my_  collection. I'm afraid Albatross will just have to do without this one. This one issh mine, yessh."

Hisana shivered the moment she felt the calloused hand of the killer graze her neck. Looking up at the shadows scattered across the wall of the tent, she could see the killer's silhouette had consumed that of her own. He appeared to be a wide, lumbering man.

Hisana's silent observations were quickly interrupted the moment she felt him playfully finger her hair. "So soft," he chuckled. "So very, very soft and shiny."

Under knitted brows, her eyes remained fixed on the man's shadow painting the fabric of the tent a deep shade of black. His frame took the shape of a large mound as he hunched over her. Carefully observing each of his movements as they were translated on the wall in front of her, she noted that his motions were awkward, fumbling, and slow – like those of a child – a large, overgrown child.

Nervously, she bit her bottom lip as she contemplated a way out of the mess she had unwittingly gotten herself into. "I – I came to see you," she stammered, unsure of where she was going with  _that_.

"Really? How did you find me? Did Albatross send you?"

Hisana's eyes widened as she averted her gaze to the ceiling. Still trying to come up with something to say that would delay the inevitable, she glanced down at the extinguishing fire contained in the lantern to her right. "I was told that you were a  _very_ _special_  man, and I came to give you a  _gift_."

"A gift!" he squealed. "Where is it?"

"Um, I'll show you if you can get me a drink of sake… I'm awfully thirsty."

"Sake? Sake! Sake." the man chanted while harshly petting her hair.

Cringing under the force of the man's hand as he stroked her absently, Hisana tightly shut her eyes.  _'What have I gotten myself into?'_  she wanted to cry aloud. Of all the leads she had managed to amass over the last two days, why did she have to pick the  _correct_  one? Why did her instincts only prove reliable when it meant that danger lurked nearby? Why couldn't she have been an obedient wife who followed her husband's instructions? Why, why, why?

"Sake? Sake for the pretty lady? I suppose you can have some sake before you give me your gift and we begin our _playtime_."

Hisana did not want to know what this "playtime" entailed. Banishing the thought to the back of her mind, she fixed gaze on the shadows scattered across the wall. Carefully watching the man straighten his posture and withdraw from her, she discreetly felt for her lantern.

"Sake! Sake! Sake!" the killer's voice swelled with excitement as he poured some rice wine into a small clay cup.

Upon returning, he forcefully grabbed a hold of her small shoulder. Turning her to the side so that she was facing him, the killer cupped one of his over-sized hands under her chin. With his thumb he gently traced the fine lines of her face.

"Open your eyes," he commanded.

Hisana squeezed her eyelids tighter yet as she braced against the foul odor of his breath. Repressing the urge to retch, her expression only grew more pinched and distorted as she instinctively turned her head to the side to avoid the burn of his gaze.

Incited by her actions, he threw down the cup of sake. With surprising swiftness, the lumbering man placed a hand against the back of her neck, and yanked her near. "So defiant, this one," he murmured softly as he playfully cocked his head to the side. "But, she's so soft, so  _clean_ ," with the last word, his voice grew more menacing.

Reflexively, Hisana's eyes flew open in time to see a dark expression pass over the killer's disproportionate features. For the first time she was able to examine the face of the man who had caused so much strife in the already hellish Inuzuri. Her gaze quickly passed from his heavy protruding brow, which hung over his round unintelligent eyes, to his large aquiline nose. The last feature she scanned was probably the most troublesome - his mouth. His thick, cracked lips were curved upward into a wolfish grin.

Fighting back repulsion, Hisana pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to her lap.  _'He's a monster. A true monster...'_  she couldn't help but think.

Interpreting her response as rejecting in nature, the man quickly became unglued. "Look at me!" he spat, forcing her chin upwards.

Hisana responded by turning her gaze to the walls, which were now fluttering inward due to a strong outside gust of wind.

"Look at me!" he screamed, clearly enraged by her refusal to look at him. In retaliation, he quickly grasped a handful of her hair, and yanked her head back.

"Ah," he hissed, leaning down to probe her now exposed neck with his mouth.

Feeling the warmth of his breath and the harshness of his lips against her throat, Hisana released a small yelp of pain.

"Scream!" he commanded, yanking her head back further and raking his teeth over her tender skin. "Oh, how I love it when they scream!" he growled before ramming his face hard against her clavicle.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She just wanted to dissolve into the dirt her hands were now firmly clenching. Biting down hard against her bottom lip, Hisana could feel her front teeth abrade away flakes of skin.

Upon feeling the warmth of his saliva as he lapped at her ear, Hisana was no longer able to repress her emotions. Tears began streaming down her cheeks and neck; the now salty taste of her skin only seemed to further provoke his frustrated attempts at disrobing her.

Aroused, the killer slowly tried to ease Hisana to the ground. Forcing her down, however, proved to be no easy task on his part. She struggled violently against his advances, but in the end she was outmatched in both size and weight. Pulling away momentarily, the man smiled madly down at her; relishing his victory, he wrapped his large hand around her neck. "I hear girls like this," he chuckled.

Hisana pressed her lips together as she tried to repress the urge to shudder in response to the sensation of his rough hands brushing against her thigh. Unable to calm her internal state, she shook feverishly under the man as he tried to part her legs. Unwilling to watch him disrobe in front of her, she wrenched her neck to her left and shut her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, she trained her gaze on the wavering light of the lantern and the killer's discarded robe, which was now dampened by the spilt sake, lying nearby. She quickly flung her arm to her side - knocking the lantern over on its side, and releasing the once contained flame...

* * *

 

Byakuya observed the disemboweled body of the latest victim resting supine on the ground. It was a grotesque display of brutality, he noted ruefully to himself before turning his attention to the man standing by his side, Len Assam. Assam was an officer from the Covert Operations Squad; he had been sent to Inuzuri for reconnaissance.

"Ordinarily, no one would have given a second thought considering the location of the murders," Assam observed quietly. "But  _th_ _is_  is different."

Byakuya inclined his head, having noticed a disturbance on the horizon.

"If this guy hadn't been foraging pseudo-zanpakutō then I don't think he would've even caught our attention," Assam continued, oblivious to Byakuya's indifference on the matter. "Which brings me to the question of why they bothered with sending someone of  _your_  level of expertise to these areas? I mean, it's not like the situation has gotten out of control. This is only a mild nuisance, really. Nothing to get too hot and bothered over…"

"What is over there?" Byakuya asked drily, ignoring the man's prattling.

Assam lifted a brow, trying to follow the captain's gaze. "Smoke from a fire? I don't know, Sir. Perhaps they're finally burning the place down?"

"Such activity is not normal for Inuzuri, in other words?"

"Some of the residents make small bonfires to keep warm at night, Captain Kuchiki. But, that looks to be a bit more than the result of a simple bonfire." Assam gave Byakuya a sidelong glance before returning his attention back to the grey plume of smoke stretching across the horizon.

"I think it is coming from across the Styx – from the South, Captain. But, the downtown part of Inuzuri at this late hour is most difficult to traverse," the officer stated reluctantly, having read the Captain's thoughts.

Feeling the coolness of gentle breeze tease his skin, Assam glanced over to Byakuya only to find himself very much alone. "Captain Kuchiki?"

Assam hadn't been mistaken – the downtown area of Inuzuri was bustling in spite of the lateness of the hour. The area was lit in bright yellows and warm oranges. If it were not for the heavenly blanket of darkness hovering high above the district, no one would have suspected that night had fallen.

Byakuya had made it across the Styx and into Inuzuri's downtown in a matter of seconds, but using flash-steps to navigate the marketplace would have been a foolhardy endeavor considering it was difficult enough to strategically maneuver around the citizens, carts, and merchants at a walk.

Agilely dodging between two merchants selling their wares, a pack of children, and a mutt, Byakuya turned his gaze skyward to get an estimate of how close he was to the source of the fire. This momentary distraction, however, resulted in him being mowed down by a small red-headed boy.

"Hey, watch where you're going, idiot!" the kid spat and shook his fist threateningly at Byakuya before hastily rushing down an adjacent alleyway.

Byakuya shot the boy a look of disapprobation in reply before turning his attention back to the activity in front of him. Noticing a lull in traffic, Byakuya nimbly flash-stepped his way out of the marketplace. Stopping short of the thicket bordering the downtown, Byakuya glanced up to see a sheet of smoke blanketing the area. There was no way for him to deduce from where the fire had originated.

Scanning the forest, he couldn't help but wonder what had prompted him to investigate the cause of the smoke… Arson wasn't the killer's MO. But, there was  _something_ that had urged him to probe the situation; he couldn't deny that much. However,  _what_  prompted him to take action still mystified him.

Taking a step forward, Byakuya was finally met with an answer.

_Hisana…_

 


	8. He Lays in the Reins

Cold, shivering, and sobbing – he found her.

Aside from the tears, her features remained unmarred – untouched by the raw torrent of emotions simmering beneath her calm resolve.

He had not saved her; no, not this time. He had not saved her from the night's cataclysm. She had been left to pay the price for her foolishness, and she had managed just fine…

Hisana glanced down at her torn and tattered kimono.  _'Who am I kidding?'_  was the only coherent thought she could manage to tease from the deluge of conflicting emotions swirling inside her soul.  _'I am far from fine…'_  she noted wryly to herself, realizing that she stood before him a trembling mess.

The fringes of her kimono were charred; her skin was darkened by the soot and ash from the fire; and, she shook with every step she took. Her reticent expression could not hide the trauma she had endured and was still experiencing.

She took another step forward before feeling her legs stiffen beneath her – refusing to budge another inch. Broken and tired, she relented and glanced up at the tall austere man standing in front of her. The image she had in her head of what he would look like was shattered when she finally swallowed her pride and saw the man in his entirety. Her expectations, as usual, were invalidated by the reality before her. He did not stand proud nor did his features suggest that he had been overcome with anguish, disgust, or disappointment. His eyes were unusually wide and probing in expression. His lips were not sloped into his trademark disapproving frown, but rather they were parted slightly.

Hisana blinked away the tears distorting her vision before scanning his countenance again. "You came…" The voice that escaped her lips was surprisingly steady in its delivery.

"I…" He parted his lips to speak, but closed them with equal quickness.

 _'Down, down, down,'_  her thoughts echoed absently in her mind as she felt her body break from under her.

She had fallen into the cold blackness of a numb unconsciousness.

She had fallen into him…

Ever adroit, Byakuya had managed to catch her before she had the chance to reach the cold ground below. Pressed against his chest, she inhaled a deep breath. Warmed by his fragrance, a small contented smile thinned her lips. She then fell limp against him.

Glancing down at his wife, Byakuya held her tentatively. Her frame was fragile against his strong build. She was delicate and soft where the other women he knew were muscular and hard. Gently, he drew both arms around her, warming her cold flesh in the heat of his embrace. With graceful ease, he swept her up and turned on his heels.

"Captain!"

It was Assam, Byakuya noted to himself before sparing the man a passing glance.

Breathless from his strenuous sprint to catch up with Byakuya, Assam was hunched over and heaving. The palms of his hands were firmly planted on his knees as he braced his weight on his bent legs. "Wh-wh-what happened?" he managed to wheeze out inbetween breaths.

Byakuya halted short of the officer. "There was a fire," he replied simply before moving onward. "Your job here is done."

Assam rolled his eyes in response to the Captain's dismissive brevity. Turning his head to glance at Byakuya from over his shoulder, he had to ask, "Who's the girl?"

"She is my wife," came the distant reply.

Taken aback, Assam blinked back his shock. When he reopened his eyes, he found himself alone.

" _Typical,_ " he muttered in a low tenor.

* * *

 

Groggy, Hisana shifted against the pool of warmth that was currently heating her skin.

Her thoughts were roaming at a sluggish speed as she woke from her restless slumber. Waves of weariness washed over her, gently nudging her into unconsciousness. Tempted to retreat back into the blackness of sleep, Hisana adjusted her weight against whatever she was resting on only to find that her body felt heavy and drained. Worn and aching, every muscle in her neck, limps, and back tightened as she tried to move.

The dull pain of cramped muscles was a sure antidote for sleep, Hisana thought bitterly upon feeling her senses slowly waken. She felt every bump, rattle, and vibration of the carriage ride echo inside her – urging her further and further into a state of awareness. Lifting her heavy eyelids, she was instantly greeted by a blur of blues, yellows, and white.

In hopes of clearing her vision, Hisana tightly squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them.  _'A little better,'_  she thought to herself.

Inclining her head slightly to view her surroundings with a clearer head, Hisana shuddered upon computing what she lying against. With a feeble attempt at nimbleness, she reflexively shot up in her seat.

 _'Oh, no!'_  She quickly averted her gaze downwards to see that her hands were firmly placed against  _his_  chest.  _'I-I don't know what to do…'_  Feeling every muscle in her body contract as she tried to repress the urge to shudder, Hisana closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Managing to quell the mortification that had settled in the pit of her stomach, she managed to summon what little wit she still had about her. Apprehensively, she cocked her head to the side and willed herself to look at him. Training her bleary vision on his countenance, she felt her anxiety quickly gave way to mindless intrigue as she unabashedly drew closer. The once cherished space between them quickly diminished as she lowered her head until her own face was mere centimeters from his. Her dark blue eyes hungrily took in every detail of his countenance.

 _"He's asleep?"_ she whispered softly to herself.

She found something oddly attractive, captivating even, by the prospect that he, too, needed rest. Unable to resist herself, Hisana freed her right hand from its place against his chest so she could trace the lines of his face with her fingertips. She was unable to recall a time in their marriage when he looked so at ease.

_'He's always so calm and collected, but now, as he sleeps, he looks at peace. He looks so tranquil…'_

Absently, she leaned in closer yet; her lips were now gingerly pressed against his cheek. Alarmed by the forwardness of her actions, Hisana instinctively pulled back to reference his expression. Seeing that his features remained unchanged, she felt the flutters in her stomach subside.

 _'He looks so…'_  Hisana smiled wryly to herself.  _'He looks so beautiful.'_  She wondered if he would have found the adjective offensive.  _'_ _C_ _hildish_ _perhaps_ _,'_ she concluded, tenderly brushing the hair from his face.

With gentle ease, her fingers took on a mind of their own as they lightly ran their way across his scalp before finding themselves entwined in his dark hair. Hisana smiled in response as she quietly maneuvered her thin digits through the soft tresses. Absently, she lowered her head; it was not until she felt the warmth of his breath against her forehead that she realized just how close she was.

 _'Too close,'_  she noted to herself before gently pressing her lips against his jaw.

Perhaps the nearness of him had simply overwhelmed her senses - driving her to such daring madness. She continued on despite herself – brushing her lips over his jaw line. Soft, almost imperceptible, kisses bathing his skin.

Her heart sped in rhythm - pounding heavily in her chest with every movement she made. The adrenaline coursing through her, however, only worked to make the tension more palpable, more visceral, more  _real._ Every staggered breath she drew was laced with his scent - intoxicating her until she felt a warmth seep inside her, dulling her senses and better judgment.

She  _should_  have been chastising herself for her actions – for her cowardice. Not in a million years could she imagine behaving in such a way if he was cognizant… She felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of him waking to find her in such a manner. A sharp wave of panic tingled its way through her at the possibility – like a thousand pinpricks slamming against the walls of her chest. Immediately, she peeled herself away from him.

Just as she had begun to withdraw completely, she felt his body tense under hers.

Feeling coldness invade her once warm body, Hisana fought through her hesitance as she turned her gaze to him.

He  _appeared_  asleep, she noted to herself.

With much deliberation, she softly traced the contours of his face. Her touch was nearly imperceptible. Occasionally, however, her hand would waver, and her fingertips would linger longer than intended; this would usually elicit a subtle reaction on his part.

Hisana smiled, feeling her husband respond favorably to her caresses. "How long have you been awake?"

He glanced up at her through half-lidded eyes. "Long enough."

She felt the burn of discomfiture rip through her. Her heart stopped, and her cheeks flushed. Trying unsuccessfully to hide her disarray, Hisana shifted nervously against him. "You didn't say anything."

Sensing the heat of her body withdrawing from his, Byakuya stayed her by placing a hand against her back.

Feeling not only embarrassed but now trapped, Hisana quickly averted her stare. "Forgive me," she murmured softly against the fabric of his kimono.

"For what?"

Timidly returning her attention back to his countenance, she quickly noted that he had closed his eyes and his expression of serenity had returned. "For… For…"

"For kissing your husband?"

She felt her complexion turn ten shades of red in reply. "Among other things…"

He opened his eyes in response.

Fighting back the urge to shudder, Hisana turned her gaze to the scenery careening past the window just slightly above her. "I apologize for my disobedience."

"There is no need to apologize…"

Hisana glanced up at him. "Indeed, there is, and I am sure there will be many more…"


	9. Traditions

The humid night air of early autumn woke Hisana from her deep slumber. Struggling against the sheets of her futon, she turned on her side. Weary eyes opened and looked out onto the darkened Kuchiki gardens through the long wall-to-ceiling window.

A lazy smile lengthened her lips as she breathed in the sweet smell of flora on the air. It would not be long before the beautiful colors of autumn gave way to reveal the wooden skeletons of winter. Absently, she pulled herself up into a sitting position on her bed, and her concentration deepened.

 _'I will miss this,'_  she thought; the haze began to lift from her mind.

Pulling down the sheet that was tucked against her, she rolled onto her knees, gracelessly rising to her feet. Stumbling forward a bit, Hisana quickly regained her balance and drifted toward the door leading to the garden.

She had intentionally left the door ajar so the evening air would perfume her quarters. But, as of late the damp autumnal air had taken on a biting quality. Placing her hand against the door with the intention of closing it, Hisana found herself sliding it backward instead. She stood over the threshold, and she tightly wrapped her arms in front of her.

 _'It is so quiet out tonight,'_  she thought whimsically.  _'So very quiet…_ _Like Lord Byakuya…'_

The thought of her husband sent a tingle down her spine. Her gaze became unseeing the moment she directed her thoughts inward. It had been some time since she had last spoken with him. Nigh a month and the few exchanges between the pair had come in the form of fleeting glances and subtle nonverbal cues.

 _'He's been so_ _preoccupied lately with all_ _his duties as a captain,'_  she always told herself when she felt the need to combat the sinking feeling that weighed heavily inside her chest.

Closing her eyes at the thought, Hisana began to wonder if such was really the case…

Just as the wallowing feelings of pity and doubt began to percolate through her veins, Hisana heard a stirring sound from the corridor beyond her room. She was just about to retreat into the shadows of her chamber when she caught a glimpse of a tall willowy figure in her periphery. Unthinkingly, she turned her head and fought through her shock.

"Lord Kuchiki," she whispered more so to herself than to him. Even in the dim glow radiating from the room behind him, she could see him shooting her a sidelong glare.

She responded to his penetrating gaze by bowing her head submissively. "How long have you been in residence, milord?" she asked softly, politely.

"I just returned from the Division."

Hearing the sound of tedium in his voice, Hisana lifted her head and focused her attention on the large plum tree in front of her. "You must be famished, then."

When Hisana did not hear a reply, she turned to face her husband. He was still scanning the garden; the look etched into his features was contemplative.

"Please, let me prepare you something," she said meekly.

He lifted his head in reply before training his gaze on her. "Do not trouble yourself. Such is the job of the servants."

Hisana smiled sweetly at the response. "I would like nothing other than to serve my husband."

Byakuya blinked reflexively at her word choice. He had accumulated many honors and titles, but "husband" would take some getting used to, especially since it was such a rare and utterly disarming epithet.

She shut her eyes, letting an expression of joy paint her face. "I take that as a 'yes'!" She gave a deep bow before quickly departing company.

Byakuya had only the time to open his mouth in anticipation of airing a protest when he realized that she had already disappeared into the shade of her room.

It only took a few moments before she returned. She smiled at him chastely, and gestured for him to follow her. Byakuya complied without thought or question. Mindlessly, he trailed behind her as they made their way through the winding corridors of the estate.

Never once did he wonder where she was leading him. The aforementioned was either a testament to his trust in her or his weariness… At the time Byakuya was not sure which.

Hisana shoved back a door and paused outside the room. Realizing that they had finally reached their destination, Byakuya made a quick survey of where she had led him.

 _'My quarters…'_  he thought to himself, somewhat incredulous.

The moment he crossed the threshold, his senses were assaulted with the aroma of bath oils. With the ease and familiarity he always wore about him, Byakuya began to shrug out of his captain's haori. Soft hands helped peel the garment from his shoulders…

He was used to the ritual of disrobing in preparation for a bath…

His muscles flexed and his heart skipped a few beats.

 _Hisana_ …

It was Hisana behind him calmly taking his haori and scarf from him. It was her small cool hands working their way around his kenseikan. He had been tricked by his own familiarity with the ritual that he had forgotten that it was his wife acting as his aid instead of his steward. The icy panic that washed over him dissipated, however, the moment her fingers began to move their way through his hair. Soft caresses trailed against his scalp as she tried to gently remove the ornament.

Byakuya tried to fight against the pleasure he was experiencing. If filled him with warmth – relaxing muscles he was not aware he possessed, and stimulating others he had long forgotten…

Completely bewitched – his senses were put to rest – dulled by her fine touches. Still struggling against the spell he was sure she had cast, he blinked his eyes to no avail. His senses were still rendered useless – his brain now on lock down, he could no longer process his surroundings with any semblance of intelligence. He was thunderstruck – completely dumbfounded.

Hisana, however, was equally unsure of herself. From where she came, attracting the attention of the male variety usually resulted in unwanted violence… But now, her movements were guided by a desire to serve, to please, to sooth – she felt the pangs of apprehension only when she considered her actions imperfect.

Freeing her husband from his bonds of servitude, she was unsure of what more she could do. Hesitantly, she untwined her fingers from his long black locks of hair, and eyed his shinigami robes…

_'I don't know… about that…'_

She found the thought of her fingers curling under his robes as she tried to disarm him rather frightening... yet so oddly alluring. Imagining the warmth radiating from his shoulders to meet her skin made her tremble.

Tension fell like a curtain over the two as she gently fumbled with his kimono. Feeling the chill of her fingers graze his neck as she adjusted his collar proved too much for Byakuya. The emotional restraints he had left unchecked swiftly snapped back into place as he pulled himself from her grasp.

"That is enough." His voice came as a warning.

Hisana replied with a steady step backwards, and averted her gaze downward. "Your bath is ready, milord."

He lowered his head, shrugged his robes further up on his shoulders, and quietly made his way to the bath.

Hisana shut her eyes and inhaled an uneasy breath. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and her complexion was now a pink tint. Still clutching his possessions in her arms, Hisana moved to place them in their appropriate places before leaving his room to check on the food she was preparing.

When she returned, she had just enough time to set the dinner on a small table before he emerged from the bath. She was seated in seiza; her eyes were cast down at the wooden floor as he neared. "Your food," she said with a shaky voice.

With a grace uncommon for a male of his stature, Byakuya situated himself on the floor in front of the table – in front of her.

Betrayed by her eyes, which had been trained to follow unexpected motion, Hisana caught a fleeting glimpse of him before settling her gaze on her lap. His hair was damp, and his skin was glistening in the faint light illuminating the area. Feeling her heart flutter as she recounted his appearance in the safety of her own thoughts, Hisana realized just how dangerous her mind had become…

"I hope it is…" she trailed off softly.

"It is good," he replied, having already anticipated the question.

She looked up at him – observed his face. She could detect very little in the way of disgust as he ate, which led her to believe that it wasn't an out-and-out lie on his part. Her concentration, however, deepened as she scanned his visage.

He looked very worn, drained, even. His face was pale and unusually haggard in appearance.

"Is something troubling you?" she asked.

He tiredly shut his eyes, and Hisana wondered if this was her signal to leave him in peace. Eying the doorway like a hawk eyes its next meal, she shifted uncomfortably on her tatami mat as she contemplated the quickest way to make a clean break.

"Nothing you should worry yourself with," he said in a surprisingly even tone.

Hisana cocked her head to the side. "Do not say such things." Her delivery edged on reprimanding.

Clearly taken aback by her candor, Byakuya opened his eyes and stared at her. He was unused to such a tongue directed at him in his own home.

Unsure of whether her dinner companion was amused or distressed by her verbiage, she turned her gaze to the door on her left. "I, as your wife, wish to relieve you of your troubles. How can I do so if I don't know what it is that is plaguing you?"

Byakuya watched her intently. He observed every line of her face and committed it to memory. Her posture was abnormally stiff, her eyes listless, and her hands were clamped together in a ball on her lap. She seemed disturbed by something, he noted. But, he wasn't entirely convinced that her anxiety was all his doing.

Turning his attention down at the bowl of rice she had prepared, he parted his lips. "There were issues with the division's budget, two tedious meetings to attend, patrol, training, and an ailing Vice Captain."

Unbelieving, Hisana blinked thrice before comprehending what had just happened. She was beside herself...

_'He's opening up to me? And a_ _ll I had to do was ask? How sinfully simple...'_

She instantly smothered the urge to smile madly at the sudden turn in dialogue. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat. With soft eyes she beseeched him to continue… and he did.

The two continued speaking freely into the wee hours in the morning.

Never once did the other feel the pangs of sleep tug at their eyes or mind.

But, time never stands still.

And, it was not long before the bright rays of morning separated the pair.

_As it always did…_

But, the promise of nightfall did all it could to rekindle the hope of reunion in their hearts.

And thus began a new tradition for the two…


	10. Concerto D'Atumno

Tiny spines raked their way down her scalp – catching in the tangles of her hair and yanking her head backwards. Pulled off kilter, Hisana did the only thing she could think of - clamp onto the sides of her sitting mat.

"Ugf." She tried to muffle the yelp, but the prickly sensation of pain fluttering across her skull proved too much to bear.

"Sh." A harsh voice washed over her in response – sending a shiver down her vertebrae.

"I'm sorry."

It was a dreadful dance, really. Comb, comb, snag, yank, yank, rinse and repeat. It felt like a tango with all the headsnaps; although, one with half the passion or intrigue.

Hisana was beginning to wonder why in the world she had agreed to such torture.

 _'Because your husband asked you to…'_  her brain was quick to remind her.

_'Oh, yeah…'_

Feeling the pain subside, Hisana turned her gaze to the mirror. Byakuya's steward was looming behind her. An elaborate looking comb dangled from the corner of his mouth as he tried to tease her hair into place.

He appeared pensive if not utterly frustrated. Every movement, no matter how cautious, was eventually thwarted. A stubborn clump of hair would inevitably escape his or the clip's grasp and fall in a fashion that was entirely unflattering for a court lady.

"What did your stylist cut your hair with? A dagger?" She thought she had heard him mutter under his breath.

_'Well, actually, yeah…'_

She had to repress the urge to laugh in fear of the consequences for such taunting. The steward was already flustered and angry. And, Hisana was fairly certain that it would only take the smallest amount of provocation for him to drive a spare pin into her neck – effectively silencing her in one blow.

Again, she had to stifle a giggle. For some odd reason she was thoroughly amused by the idea of being killed by a hair pin. She was pretty sure that Byakuya's steward would be the first to throw a party upon the announcement of her death. The way the man looked at her was so… menacing. It was hardly the most vivid adjective to describe the breed of contempt he managed to muster with each passing glance in her direction, but at the time it was the only one she could think of considering he held her in a virtual headlock.

"Mr. Kishu," her voice wavered under the strain of her head being yanked back again.

"What?" He addressed her as if she was an indolent child trying to skirt her chores.

"I – I- um…" She winced as the question appeared boldly in her thoughts. "I – um – wanted to know… I wanted to – I was wondering if…"

"Spit it out!" he growled, obviously frustrated by the task at hand.

"I wanted to know if… who… what…"

He inhaled a deep breath and released it dramatically. "The December snow will have covered the birches by the time you yammer out your question."

"Did you serve the former heads of the Kuchiki family?"

The moment the question sounded the man ceased his attack on her hair.

 _'Oh no…'_  her thoughts screamed inside her head.

Instinctively, Hisana tightly closed her eyes and prepared for the prick of a well placed pin.

"Are you mocking me?" he growled.

Her eyes immediately snapped open, and her gaze shot up to the mirror. The steward was looking at her reflection with such intensity – the kind of stare that emitted heat. In fact, she was rather positive that if looks could set one on fire, she would have been ablaze.

"No. No, sir. I was… I was…" she stammered, to no avail.

"Do I look like a young man?" he hissed.

"No, sir." Hearing the words sear through the already thick air, Hisana cringed. "I mean – you look nice, but I wasn't sure if you had served… I was just curious to know…"

"To  _know_  what?"

Hisana again glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He was watching her with the most ruthless gaze – even by his standards.

"I wanted to know more about my husband."

The steward's features softened at the thought of his master.

The expression, however, was a fleeting thing.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" he spat before busying himself with her hair.

"Because I was worried that such a question may be seen as  _insensitive_."

Clearly alarmed that the girl had continued despite his reluctance, the steward lifted his head and directed his gaze to the mirror. She appeared rather confident – disturbingly so considering the previous verbal barrage of insults.

"Yes, I served under the former heads of the Kuchiki clan."

"What were they like?"

His eyelids drooped at the question. "They were my masters…"

"Obviously, but what were they like?"

"They were  _noble_."

Hisana pressed her lips together.  _'Of course they were… But that tells me virtually nothing_ _about them,_ _'_  she thought bitterly to herself.

She wanted to sigh. She would have asked her handmaiden if only Murasaki had been in residence at the time. The most she had been able to garner from Murasaki was nothing more than hearsay. According to which, the former Kuchiki mistress kept mostly to herself… and was, perhaps, slightly mad.

"Forget it," she murmured, punctuating her disappointment with a small wave of her hand.

A brief silence fell between the two as he continued the dance of torture.

"They loved each other very much," the steward added rather reluctantly. "Their love is what probably drove milord to…"

 _'Madness,'_  the more cynical part of Hisana's brain conjectured.

"… to find a love befitting his parent's legacy."

She couldn't believe her ears. _'A compliment?_ _Almost.'_

"The former Lady was of noble birth, no?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed, as if it was the most absurd question ever posited in his presence.

Hisana smiled – a small lugubrious smile at his enthusiasm.

"What ever happened to them?"

"They died."

Hisana waited for a few moments to pass before articulating her next question. "Was he young at the time?"

"Fairly. It was a little less than 50 years ago, around the same time their plans for an arranged marriage fell through..."

Hisana's brows shot up. "What?"

The steward's hands had become soft in her hair, and his features less strict. Thinking better of responding, he shook his head. "Nothing." He sighed wistfully to himself at the guarded memory of dashed possibilities.

Feeling the curtain of silence come down upon the pair, Hisana closed her eyes. She only retained the faintest of memories of her family from the Material World. She was sent to the Spirit World as a youth with a baby in tow and no parental figure to direct her efforts…

Falling prey to a whirl of thoughts, Hisana drew further inside herself… until an abrupt clap of the door sliding back disrupted her most private of musings. Instinctively, she turned her head, much to the chagrin of the steward.

"Ah!" he groaned, seeing all of his hard work unravel in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Kishu." It was Murasaki who appeared, kneeling submissively behind the threshold of the room. "But, milord is growing impatient. He fears arriving late for the festival, all things considered. He wishes to know how long you intend on torturing his wife."

The steward looked appalled by her choice of words. " _Tortur_ _ing his wife_?"

"His words, Kishu. Not my own."

Hisana smiled at her handmaiden. "Thank you, Murasaki. Perhaps, Mr. Kishu will finally realize that my hair has bested him."

Murasaki giggled. "Ah, but you underestimate a servant's stubborn desire to please his master."

He cleared his throat in response. "You  _do_  know that I'm still sitting here."

Placing a hand to her mouth, Hisana released a soft chuckle. "Thank you, Murasaki. Tell Lord Kuchiki that his wife will be joining him in a few minutes."

Murasaki nodded her head approvingly before sliding the door shut in front of her.

"A few minutes," the steward scoffed in protest. "You expect me to work a miracle in the span of a  _few minutes_."

"Any longer and I don't expect there to be a single hair left on my head." She laughed.

 _'A laugh like bells,'_  Kishu observed in spite of himself.

Brushing the observation aside, he lifted his head arrogantly. "It is  _imperative_  that you look your best for this event, Lady Kuchiki," he fussed, still attempting to work his "magic".

Hisana lifted her brows quizzically. "Really?" she said; her voice laden with sarcasm.

_She wouldn't have guessed by his frantic efforts at taming her wild tresses._

"Yesss," he hissed. "The Festival of Color is annually put on by one of the Thirteen Divisions. This year it is being hosted by the Thirteenth."

"Is there anything significant about it being held by the Thirteenth Division as opposed to the other twelve?"

Her question was quickly met by a sharp yank which swiftly brought her head back far enough for her eyes to view the dismayed look etched into the servant's features. His lips were curved downwards; although, upside down he appeared to be smiling… a feat Hisana fancied impossible for the old steward.

"The Thirteenth is headed by Captain Jūshirō Ukitake."

Hisana blinked.

The name did sound vaguely familiar, she had to admit. But, there were so many Captains, Vice Captains, and numbered seats that, without an actual flow chart or visual reference, all of the names just sort of melded together. She knew the shinigami from her husband's stories better under her own system of epithets - relative to her husband's position, of course (i.e., His-Former-Captain; His-Vice-Captain; Captain-So-and-So's-Former-Fourth-Who-Was-His-Third-But-Died-Horrid-and-Miserable-Death; etc.).

"Captain Ukitake is one of the oldest, most honorable captains of the Thirteen."

With baited breath, Hisana narrowed her eyes skeptically. The steward never got this riled over anything unless it carried some sort of importance with relation to his master.

" _And,"_  she sighed, waiting for the proverbial axe to fall.

" _And_?" he echoed, stricken by the girl's ignorance. "He was the very man Lord Kuchiki served under! He was one of Master's mentors!"

Recognition immediately lit her eyes. "Oh, yes, now I remember. Lord Byakuya served as Captain Ukitake's Vice-Captain."

Satisfied by the fact that his mistress wasn't a complete idiot, the steward released his iron grip on her hair, thereby allowing her to resume proper seiza position.

It was scarce three minutes later when the familiar wooden sound of the door being drawn back echoed throughout the room. This time, however, Hisana remained perfectly statuesque as the ever-frustrated Kishu continued putting the "finishing touches" on her hair.

Managing a sidelong gaze, Hisana's stillness broke once her eyes met his. She immediately took to her feet – her face brightly lit by a smile and glistening eyes. "Lord Byakuya." She greeted him with the glee one ordinarily reserves for a savior.

"I am now abducting my wife, Kishu," he informed the elderly steward with an air of indifference.

The poor steward, however, sat with his mouth agape and hands still rigidly placed where they had been in her hair. He looked completely mortified. His mistress had pulled away just as he was about to place the last ornament in her hair.

Hisana observed the man's expression and turned her attention to her husband. A small smile curved her lips upward. Byakuya lowered his head in response, and shared in his wife's reaction.

"Thank you, Mr. Kishu!" She offered him a deep bow of gratitude before turning on her heels.

Placing a tender hand on Hisana's shoulder, Byakuya gently guided his wife through the doorway and into the corridor.

"Fate, how terribly cruel of you!" the steward whimpered once certain of his aloneness.

He had come so close…

So dreadfully close...


	11. Keeping Up Appearances

Blame it all on wanderlust, thought Hisana to herself.

From the moment she entered the Thirteenth Division's courtyard, she was entrenched in wonderment. From the beautiful fall foliage to the wonderfully clad guests, all of whom donned fine kimonos reflecting the season's colors, she was in  _love_. There was so much to look at – to get lost in – that when the two made their quiet entrance, she untangled her arm from her husband's the moment he was pulled aside by some nameless shinigami.

It was terribly selfish of her, she realized upon feeling the remnant of her husband's warmth leave her arm. But, by the time the thought had occurred to her, she had already lost sight of him. The crowds moved, scattered, and reformed with the randomness of a capricious mist.

Turning in the direction from where she had come, she was met by a wall of guests. Nervously biting her bottom lip, she took a few steps toward a small gap free of people.

Quickly scanning the throng of guests, she found Byakuya conversing with a female shinigami. She couldn't deny feeling a few pangs of jealousy tug at her heartstrings, but when she observed his body language and his expression she felt the stirrings subside. His features were locked into a look of deep contemplation. Whatever it was they were discussing, it seemed to be a very grave matter indeed.

Hisana shut her eyes briefly, and exhaled the flood of emotions that had previously overwhelmed her. Feeling her internal state calm, she opened her eyes. Once again she found herself overcome with a sense of inspiration. The beauty floating around her became her muse, and she wafted unobserved and unimpeded through the crowds of nobles, shinigami, and grunts until she found herself immersed deep within the garden.

It was silent, and the trees around her shook and bent in response to an unexpected gust. Vividly colored leaves painted deep shapes of red, gold, orange, and brown fluttered around her like a colorful rain.

 _'It's all so beautiful,'_  she thought, pausing to appreciate her surroundings.

A smile lengthened her lips the moment she felt the course sensation of foliage catch in her hair. Happily, she plucked the offending leaf from her dark tresses. As she did so, a few strands of hair escaped her hair pins and fell in her face. She gently blew the hair from her eyes to no avail. Slightly annoyed by the elusive tresses, her fingers nimbly tucked the stands behind her ear.

 _'Much better,'_  she thought to herself as she yanked the kanzashi from her hair. Inky tresses fell from their restraints, and pooled about her shoulders. Her moment of liberation, however, was soon interrupted by the faint sounds of coughing emanating nearby.

Hisana furrowed her brow and cocked her head to the side as she tried to locate the origin of the hacking.  _'It's getting worse,'_  she noted, taking a few steps toward a large golden tree.

Gently pushing a vine out of her way, her eyes widened when she caught sight of the individual who had ventured so far out of the way to deal with the coughing spell plaguing him. The strange man was sitting on a large knotty root, hunched forward with his head lowered as he coughed into his hand.

"Are you alright?" she asked, finally breaking her silence. Seeing the man's distress and a hint of scarlet, she immediately drew to his side. Withdrawing a handkerchief from her kimono, she quickly moved to soothe him.

Handing him the small piece of linen, Hisana was certain he would have protested against her act of kindness if he had been of able, but she couldn't just  _leave_ him in such a state of disrepair.

Unsure of exactly what to do, she gently pulled his hair back from his face, and patted his back comfortingly. With concerned eyes, she observed his expression, his pallor, and his angular features. He appeared disturbingly calm considering his condition, giving her the impression that he had suffered this illness for many years.

"Is there anything I can do to help you? Anyone I can alert?"

Feeling the attack lessen in intensity, he shook his head. "No," he managed between coughs.

Anxiously, Hisana gazed ahead, trying to ascertain a solution to the problem. Her husband had spoken of a medical division… but which one was it? She was sure that if she could remember the number, she could locate a subordinate since many of the shinigami in attendance wore badges displaying their division's number.

"Are you part of the Fourth?" he asked softly, once the attack had subsided.

Instantly, she was drawn from her thoughts by his voice. She turned her gaze to the sickly man whom she was still absently patting. "Fourth?"

"You didn't run away so I assumed that you were… Apparently, not," he mused, looking her over.

Hisana could tell that he was still trying to distinguish who she was.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "You probably came here seeking solitude."

"The same could be said about you," he noted, amused.

Hisana smiled and bowed her head. "I must admit that I was just simply overcome by the beauty of the season and followed the wind here."

"Well, as the captain of the division housing such beauty, thank you."

Her eyes widened in response. She could almost  _feel_ the color in her face bleed out. Immediately, she examined the man; her eyes searching for the all-too-familiar captain's haori. To her horror she had indeed overlooked the garment.

She could have fainted.

_'How could I have not noticed?'_

With nimbleness unknown even to Hisana, she jumped up from the branch on which she had been seated as if it had been lit on fire. "Forgive me for my insolence, Captain Ukitake," she said, bowing hastily.

He attempted to repress the chuckle climbing up the back of throat, but to no avail. "You must not be from around here."

"No, sir," she answered, wondering if he had meant just the Seireitei or Soul Society in general.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.  _'How could I have been so paralyzingly stupid?'_

Furrowing his brow, Ukitake tilted his head slightly as he examined her. "If you don't mind my asking, what is  _your_ name?"

"Hisana," she responded softly before quickly adding, "Kuchiki."

"Kuchiki?" he echoed.

Instantly, she lifted her gaze to search his face. Ukitake looked baffled upon examination.

Lifting his brows, his eyes met hers. "You are Byakuya's wife?" he asked, making sure he had understood her properly.

Hisana's posture grew rigid, and her eyes widened. "Yes, I am she," she stated, averting her gaze to the ground just in time to miss the smile writing its way across the Captain's lips.

"Please, excuse my ignorance," he said, taking to his feet and offering her a bow in response.

Hisana lifted her head and looked on in horror. "Oh, please. If you would only excuse mine." She placed a cold hand to her face at the thought of her stupidity.

"Please, do me the honor," he said, casually offering her his arm.

If she hadn't been so utterly mortified and thus focused on her companion, Hisana probably would have missed the subtle motion on his part.

Tentatively, she took his arm, and followed his lead still in a daze.

"You must be warm in all those layers," he noted quietly.

Drawn from her state of mortification, Hisana turned her gaze to him. He appeared pensive; his gaze fixed on what lay ahead. "No," she responded, having finally processed his comment. "Actually, I'm quite cold."

He shot her a sidelong stare. "I see." His voice was soft, belying his perceptiveness.

She lowered her head. For some odd reason, the silence that lingered between the two was neither bothersome nor heavy. Yet, she still felt a push to speak - as if it was expected of her… "You were Lord Byakuya's Captain, correct?" She hated small talk, especially with someone who was so superior to herself.

Ukitake's dark eyes were probing as he considered the question. "I was. He has changed greatly since then I believe."

Her cheeks flushed a pale tint of pink in reply, having understood his meaning perfectly well.

As the two came to the edge of the untamed portion of the courtyard, Ukitake paused short of the imaginary border separating the guests from the solitude of the thicket.

Hisana inclined her head, and looked up questioningly at the captain. He appeared to be scanning the mass of individuals clustered randomly throughout the courtyard.

"Come," he said almost indiscernibly. Gently, he tugged her toward a faint trail leading back to where they had just come from. "There is someone I would like to introduce to you."

Hurriedly, she tried to match his long strides, which had seemed to have quickened in cadence.

 _'Is something wrong?'_  she couldn't help but wonder as she silently followed behind him.

"So this is where you disappeared to?"

Ukitake stopped short, hearing the familiar intonation of one Shunsui Kyōraku.

Hisana, however, had to do everything physically possible to keep from running face-first into the back of Captain Ukitake. Trying to stifle her acceleration, she abruptly pulled to his side.

An unfamiliar set of eyes searcherd hers.

Hisana quickly referenced Ukitake's expression in relation to this new stranger. The good captain, from what she could tell, appeared nonplussed by man. In fact, she was rather certain that he received the stranger with a look of warmth.

"A woman?" Kyōraku noted, surprised that he had missed the unfamiliar spiritual pressure, but it was so weak… "Well, then all makes sense," he chuckled, far too amused for his own good.

"Don't let anyone hear you speak like that," Ukitake chastised, albeit good-naturedly.

Kyōraku's brows knit as he glanced down at the frail woman at his friend's side. He then looked up at Ukitake as if to ask him to explain himself.

"Lady  _Kuchiki_ , this is my friend, Captain Shunsui Kyōraku of the Eighth Division." Ukitake made sure to emphasize the surname as his friend (and even he to an extent) was known to put his brain on autopilot after hearing the title "Lady" or "Lord".

Kyōraku, however, didn't need to be hit over the head. He was fairly certain that his friend could have gone into a hacking fit when he spoke the surname, and Kyōraku would have still heard it. "Nice to meet you," he managed in an even tone before taking her hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

Hisana bowed her head in response. "It is a pleasure."

"I was just on my way to introduce the Lady to my sister, Rinko," Ukitake informed him politely.

Having astutely read his friend's intentions, Kyōraku nodded his head approvingly. "I think Rinko would like that very much."

"If you see Byakuya looking for his wife please tell him that it was I who stole her away."

Kyōraku chuckled. "I suppose you being the kidnapper is better than most."

"Better me than  _you_ ," Ukitake quipped before parting company with his friend.

"Is something wrong, Captain?"

Byakuya paid the question no heed as he scanned the randomly distributed clumps of guests. "No."

"I only asked because this is the third time that your attention has drifted from the conversation." It was his vice-captain. He could tell by the nearly inhuman enunciation used to articulate the sentence.

Turning his attention back to his vice-captain and third seat, he was careful to ensure that his gaze betrayed nothing of the listlessness or anxiety simmering inside of him. Hisana's absence had been duly noted from the onset. Now, nigh an hour had ticked by with no wife to be seen. He had tried searching for her signature spiritual pressure, but it was so weak that he had lost sense of it in the commotion.

She was simply nowhere to be found, he thought silently to himself. It was impossible. Where else could she have gone?

"Captain Ukitake!" his subordinates chimed, alerting him to the man's presence.

Byakuya turned his gaze to Ukitake, observing the man as he exchanged pleasantries with the vice-captain and third seat.

"Captain," Byakuya said stiffly, deciding to break his silence.

Ukitake acknowledged his former protégé, offering him a smile. "The color this year is most lovely, would you not agree?"

"Yes." His line of sight remained just slightly past Ukitake.

Ukitake turned his head slightly in the direction of Byakuya's gaze. "Looking for something?" he mused playfully.

"Captain Kuchiki has been rather preoccupied," informed his third seat.

"The foliage is distracting," Byakuya said, clenching his jaw as he did.

"Even more so in the garden," Ukitake noted offhandedly.

Byakuya didn't need to be told twice.

Locating her position in the garden posed him no problem…

The moment he neared he could hear the faint sounds of laughter. Both his wife and Jūshirō's younger sister sat quietly on the edge of a small fountain. Rinko held a sumi brush between her fingers, and a pad of paper on her lap. Hisana sat closely, admiring the girl's work.

"Lord Kuchiki!" Rinko exclaimed, alerting Hisana to her husband's sudden presence.

The youngest girl-child of the Ukitake clan immediately rose from her place at the fountain, and bowed politely.

Byakuya reciprocated the action. "Lady Ukitake."

Hisana smiled kindly at her husband before taking to her feet. "Lady Ukitake was just showing me her paintings. They are exceptional."

"Lady Kuchiki is far too kind," Rinko countered, still holding a bow.

Byakuya lifted his head, and turned his attention from his wife to the young girl. "My wife is known for both her kindness and honesty."

Hisana drew to her husband's side. "Thank you, Lady Ukitake, for granting me the honor of looking."

"Thank you, Lady Kuchiki."

"Until we meet again," Hisana said, bowing low before parting Rinko's company.

The pair traveled in a tranquil silence. Hisana's arm was tightly caught in her husband's as they walked, wordlessly observing their surroundings.

"Dusk is falling," Byakuya noted almost wistfully as he gazed up into the sky.

Hisana followed in kind. Color literally rained down on the pair as they continued their stroll. "It is beautiful," she said, taking pleasure in the simple beauty of leaves fluttering down on the breeze.

So enamored by the scenery she had failed to notice that they had come to a halt. When she turned to view her husband's expression, she found herself intimately connected to him.

Feeling her heart stop and her cheeks heat, Hisana relished the moment and shut her eyes. When she reopened them, she found herself pressed against his chest, warmed by his embrace.

The moment was simply breathtaking.

"Thank you," she whispered into the fabric of his robes.


	12. Silence

There was a heaviness clawing at her chest.

Corridors careened past her in a blur. White, sterile hallways of an area she had only ever visited in her dreams.

Her hand trailed against the right side of the hallway; her feet carrying her forward.

_'Fast..._

_'….faster…_

_'… still not fast enough…'_

She was running – running hard and running fast. Her bare feet padded against the cold slick floor.

Whiteness had swallowed her whole.

Fear had consumed her as well, seeping into every fiber of her being.

The enemy was a void. It was a disembodied blackness – a shadow – nothingness. As always, she never understood who or what was pursuing her. She never knew the reason for the pursuit. She, however, knew it would all end badly. It always did.

Nearing the edge of the horizontal flat, she fought through the urge to look over her shoulder.

_'It's a dream. A very bad dream, but nonetheless, I'll wake up… God, I hope I'll wake up.'_

She flew to the end of the corridor, shoved open the double doors in front of her, and….

 _'A change?'_  her thoughts screamed inside her head.

The nightmare had taken an unexpected turn for the worse. The ground beneath her had given way, or simply ceased in its existence, and she was sent plunging into a cold  _silence_. Her breath caught in her throat, and her lungs tightened – restricting her oxygen intake.

 _'Water?'_  Opening her eyes wide, she found herself suspended, weightless in a deep blue sea. Her robes floated around her as she tried her best to swim towards a surface that did not exist.

_'I don't know what to do!'_

She was in a stake of panic, edging on the hysterical. Frantically, she panned the watery depths, but her vision only seemed to be growing dimmer. The waters were becoming blacker – murkier – and her oxygen supply was steadily tanking.

Deep fear took seed in her heart and blossomed - penetrating her, possessing her so thoroughly. It was beautiful; it was animalistic; it was suffocating. She was certain she was going to die.

 _'Could one even die in their own dream?'_ she wondered, aimless in her musing.

A sinking feeling of pressure settled against her chest. The pressure, however, gave way to pain. She felt as if her chest was being crushed from the outside inward.

"Stop it!" she screamed, her voice throaty and breathless.

She was writhing in agony.

"Lady Kuchiki?"

She broke from her state of slumber, sending her conscious mind crashing back to reality. Her eyes reflexively shot open and fixed their gaze on the man looming over her. Her brain, however, took a few moments longer to process the information flooding her senses.

The man was definitely not the one she had grown accustomed to seeing upon waking.

She squinted her eyes. Slowly, her blurry vision began to clear, and recognition lit her face. "Captain Aizen?" her voice cracked.

"Are you alright?" he asked, straightening his posture once she had awoken.

She blinked her eyes, clearing her vision, and collecting her thoughts. "I'm sorry!" she stated, quickly peeling herself from the cushions of the couch on which she had fallen asleep.

He offered her a kind smile in response. "Fear not. I was just looking for Captain Kuchiki," he said, plucking the glasses from the bridge of his nose and cleaning them.

"Um…" She looked the office over as she tried to remember  _her_  reason for being there.

"I haven't seen him in a few hours," she responded, as she collected herself. She had followed her husband to work, having wished to see him train with his zanpakutō.

"Captain Aizen." Hisana immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Byakuya's Vice-Captain. Instantly, she turned her attention to the doorway. The Vice-Captain stood stiffly before the pair; her head was lowered submissively, and her arms were firmly glued to her sides as she deepened her bow.

"Captain Kuchiki has just returned from a meeting. He will return shortly," she stated, deadpan.

"Good. Then, I will wait here if that would not be too inconvenient," Aizen said.

The Vice-Captain nodded her head. "Lady Kuchiki," she began, directing her blank gaze to Hisana. "If you would -"

"She will be of no consequence," Aizen said, interrupting the shinigami. "She may remain… if she so desires."

Hisana's eyes drifted to and fro between the Fifth Division Captain and the Vice-Captain of the Sixth. Her gaze lingered on the Vice-Captain, betraying her wish to escape the room. "I," she began, glancing back at the Captain, who seemed to be willing her into submission. "I will wait here, thank you."

The shinigami lowered her head reverently, but Hisana thought she could detect a hint of displeasure on the Vice-Captain's face… "As you wish, Lady Kuchiki," she said before bowing deeply and departing.

Aizen watched the Vice-Captain. His gaze was unrelenting and penetrating, coming in stark contrast to his usually placid demeanor.

Hisana shook her head and shut her eyes, casting the observation aside. She was sure that she was making something out of nothing – perhaps letting her very violent feelings towards his own Vice-Captain, Gin Ichimaru, stain her opinion of him.

"I'm glad you decided to stay," Aizen noted. His expression lightened as a pleasured smile lifted the corners of his lips. "Your company seems to be in high demand."

 _'Like the company of a three-headed dog, I'_ _m sure,_ _'_ she thought ruefully to herself.

A faint smile lengthened her mouth as she thought over her reply. "My husband is a very good man. I'm sure any interest in me is fueled only by his honorable reputation."

Aizen nodded his head approvingly. "I hope your reception here has been warm."

"Indeed, Lord Byakuya has seen to it." Her gaze remained glued to the doorway in hopes that at any moment her husband would saunter across its threshold.

"The weather has been very fair considering the season," she digressed abruptly.

"Indeed. It has been uncommonly warm for winter."

"Unbearably so, one might say." Hisana perked the moment she heard the deep intonations waft over her.

"Lord Byakuya!" she nearly cried. Within the blink of an eye, she had jumped out of her seat and crossed the floor to receive her husband.

"Such enthusiasm is rare, indeed, among the married." Aizen chuckled softly.

Hisana smiled politely as she took to Byakuya's side. "I'll leave the two of you to your business," she said, bowing low.

She swiftly parted company, making sure to quietly close the door behind her as she left. Stepping into the corridor beyond the office, she was met by a sharp presence.

She didn't need to turn to look. She could recognize  _that_  aura from one-hundred paces away. It stung – like knives.

_'Like a thousand long_ _, pliable_ _knives_ _twisting and wrapping_ _themselves around you… Their chill only hinting at the damage they could_ _inflict_ _as they trail along your skin – taunting you wi_ _th each flutter of metal_ _. No, I could never forget that signature – not if I tried to for as long as I drew breath._

_'It has to be Vice-Captain_ _Ichimaru_ _…'_

She shivered in response, but was quick to will her body into rigid submission.

"Lady Kuchiki," he began. His voice was overly polite.

He was nothing if polite to her… But yet she couldn't deny her instincts – the same instincts that gotten her through one of the roughest districts in Soul Society.

_'His words are like snakes… Cold, smooth, and utterly repulsive…'_

Hisana's muscles tightened and contracted until she stood ramrod straight. She was sure that she had added a good five centimeters to her height, but five centimeters wasn't going to save her from the perceived threat standing directly at her back.

"It is such a nice day, wouldn't you say?" he added, almost condescendingly.

She wanted to cringe. She could feel her skin literally crawl, tingle, and scream with every breath he drew. Her hands instinctively coiled into balls at her side. So tight were her fists that she could feel her nails as they dug into the soft pads of her hands.

"Vice-Captain Ichimaru." Each word was slowly enunciated, yet when she arrived at his name – it caught in her throat.

Hisana swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat, but found herself unable to do so. Coldness swept through her body as she turned to address him formally. A feeling of vertigo broke through her restraints and she was sent crashing into a blackened abyss.

Ichimaru extended a slender arm, effortlessly catching the falling woman in a single motion.

"Um," he hummed, vaguely amused by the event. "She went and fainted on me…"

* * *

 

Hisana opened her eyes to find herself engulfed by brightness.

 _'I'm dreaming,'_  she thought, full of dread. Her dreams as of late had been turbulent to the say the least.

She glanced over her surroundings as they slowly came into focus. The colors around her had become bolder, more intense, and less washed-out. She stood in a small training room located in the Kuchiki estate.

She was immediately pierced by a sensation of déjà vu.  _'I remember this. This is where he showed me how to speed up my transportation to_ _Inuzuri_ _…'_

The memory played in front of her in full-time. She could see herself standing beside Byakuya and Ito as he explained the spell. She was absolutely lost, but thankfully Ito seemed to understand his master's words. All she was certain of was that her travel time to the Seventy-Eighth District would be cut down if the spell was used properly. She was also quite aware of the implications of such casting… Mostly, that she would have to travel alongside someone with enough skill to effectively use the transportation device.

Hisana cocked her head to the side as she watched the scene play out in front of her. The words were soft and hushed. Her attention, however, was not directed at what was being said, but rather on her husband's and Ito's expression. Ito seemed to be happy that he could be of assistance. Byakuya, in contrast, appeared troubled. She hadn't noticed his expression at the time for she had been too overcome by joy. But, now, she could clearly see the look of concern etched into his otherwise stoic facade.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, observing his silent distress.

He was helping her despite the fact that it pained him to do so…

She shut her eyes as a feeling of sadness gripped her. "I am so terribly selfish… how could I ever repay your kindness?"

* * *

 

She looked so shrunken and frail in the sterile surroundings of the infirmary. She was hooked up to a monitoring machine, an IV, and oxygen. Her skin was as pale as the pillow on which her head rested, and dark grey circles had settled around her eyes.

He silently moved across the room to her bedside. His hands gripped the top board of a wooden chair, and with a swift yank he pulled it close to her bed and sat. He gently took her small hand in his own.

Her flesh felt like ice against his skin. He shuddered at the implication before discarding the thought to the back of his mind.

"Captain!" a nurse shrieked the moment he entered the room.

Byakuya did not even bother to address the boy. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on his wife.

"I'm so sorry, Captain. I was not expecting you to be in here. I mean, it makes sense and all since she's your wife, but -"

"Is there a purpose to this intrusion?" Byakuya interrupted; his stern monotone voice only hinted at his annoyance.

"Yes, sir. I came in only to take her readings. But, I could do that at some other time," he stuttered in what seemed like one long breath.

"Do your job and leave."

"Yes, sir!" the boy answered, bowing deep before jotting down the readings.

Byakuya observed the nurse's actions with an imperceptible gaze. "How is she?" His voice had lost its edge, and his expression grew pensive.

"She is regaining some strength, Captain Kuchiki. Judging by the charts, her spirit level just plummeted. The cause remains unknown. Although," he paused as he flipped through the chart, "all of her chemical levels are out of whack. Has she been getting the proper nutrition, sir?"

Byakuya's gaze hardened at the implication that he was not properly taking care of his wife .

Feeling the air chill in response to the Captain's gaze, the boy's eyes flicked up to see Byakuya's pointed expression. "Ugh, sorry, Captain Kuchiki," he murmured, hiding his embarrassment with a nervous laugh. "I'm sure she is being well taken care of." He placed a sweaty palm against his neck, and feigned a smile. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I'll just be  _going_ …" he rambled as he quickly wafted out of the room and down the corridor.

Silence once again filled the area. The only noises sounding from the room came from the machines lining the bedside.

"Hisana…" he whispered softly to himself. He placed his other hand on top of hers in an attempt at warming her icy flesh. However, he was almost certain that her chill pierced him more than his warmth ever could reach her.

She shifted her weight in response to the doleful intonation of his voice.

Dreamily, she stared at him through half-lidded eyes. He looked so contemplative. As if he was mulling over thoughts as deep as the tranquil sea. A smile lengthened her lips as she watched him. She could not describe her joy at seeing him; her heart swelled with happiness.

"Byakuya…" she rasped out.

Byakuya started at the soft sound of her voice in his ears. No honorifics - just simply his name on her tongue.

A lazy grin parted her lips the moment she comprehended his response. She couldn't help but wonder if he was more taken aback by the fact that she was conscious or that she had referred to him by his first name only.

When his gaze met hers, she could tell that he was not displeased by her gaffe.

 _'He almost looks happy,'_  she mused; her thoughts as watery and as fluid as the rain pounding outside the hospital window.

 _"_ But maybe it's only a dream _…"_ she said languorously. Her heart sank bitterly at the prospect, and her once smiling face fell into an expression of discontent.

"No," his said in a soft but firm tenor.

"Stay with me a while longer…"

 


	13. The Ghost Woman & the Hunter

Hushed voices whispered words conveying intrigue. Intrigue, indeed, for the house was alive with murmurs, speculating what had befallen Lady Kuchiki. Few, however, knew the truth.

Until now.

A few carefully chosen servants were instructed to prepare the house for the mistress's homecoming. No matter how well contained the efforts were word always managed to penetrate the boundary of secrecy.

"I heard that she got into a bitter entanglement with one of Lord's subordinates and was overwhelmed by spiritual pressure…"

"…she fell ill after eating a poisoned persimmon given to her by one of the court ladies, or so I was told."

"No, no, she was sent to the infirmary because…"

"Shh," one of the more perceptive servants hissed, having felt a familiar presence nearing.

Silencefell over the small congregation. All eyes were directed toward the end of the short corridor.

It was Murasaki who rounded the corner. Misery and sadness clung to her robes like death to a corpse. On her heels, she ushered in an uncomfortable stillness. In her arms, she hugged a bundle of heavy blankets against her chest. Her face was contorted by sorrow. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were sloped into a frown. Her eyes were distant and lowered to the floor, giving her a look of quiet contemplation. When she glanced up to observe the servants gathered at her mistress's door, the group immediately scattered like petals carried on an invisible wind.

The tension blanketing the corridor stifled any inquires as to their mistress's condition. Instead, the group mindlessly found something to occupy their attentions until Murasaki had crossed into the Lady's chambers.

All eyes were fixed on the shoji door through which Murasaki had just passed.

"Lady Kuchiki's arrival must be imminent," one of the handmaidens noted aloud.

"I wonder why no one else was informed?" one of the man-servants asked, straining his neck to get a good look at the door.

"The Master hasn't been in residence since she fell ill… maybe the plans were made just recently?"

"But our Master is so exacting when it comes to orders…"

"Are you saying that he doesn't  _trust_  his own attendants?" one of the males shot back defensively.

"No, I was just saying that maybe she is still very vulnerable."

"And he thinks we'd make her condition worse?!"

The moment the servants caught sight of Murasaki's silhouette nearing the door, they scattered. She rolled the door back softly, and stepped lightly across the room's threshold. Her eyes remained distant and glued to the floor beneath her as she passed the others. Despite feeling the heat of four pairs of eyes boring into her head, she did not spare the servants a single glance.

"I can't believe she said not a word to us!"

"I know! Who exactly does she think she is, ignoring us like we're inanimate objects?"

"Please, clear the area." Kishu's stern voice fell unexpectedly over the group.

Paralyzed by the sound of their superior's tone, the foursome stood rigid and frozen firmly in place.

"Are you deaf? Move!" he commanded firmly, waving his hand boldly in front of him.

"Yes, sir!" the servants rang out in unison.

"Sir?" a small voice began, questioningly.

Kishu slowly turned his head as he tried to locate the origin of the sound. His lips flat-lined and his eyes narrowed, giving his face a sharp, pointed appearance.

"How is our mistress?" It was the smallest and youngest handmaiden who had ventured the question.

Kishu's lips tightened and his gaze hardened in response. Like red liquid filling the tip of a thermometer, his face reddened with each passing moment the servants stood idly waiting for a reply.

"Go!" he finally shouted, having had enough of their insubordination.

With wide eyes and quickened pulses, the servants dispersed in all directions. Some so horrified by the steward's outburst, they dropped their cleaning instruments as they sprinted out of the corridor.

Kishu breathed a heavy sigh, and placed a hand to his forehead as he stared aimlessly into the distance. He never thought he'd see the day when  _he_  was driven to protect  _that woman_ … Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and pulled back the door in front of him.

His master had not given him quite enough time to prepare the room as specified.

**The Ghost Woman and the Hunter**

Murasaki quietly exited her mistress's room. Sliding the door behind her shut, she turned exposing the sour expression painted across her visage. Her face appeared strained and pale.

"How is she?" Byakuya asked.

It was late, and Murasaki was clearly taken aback by both the suddenness of his presence and the fact that he was in residence. "L-Lord!" she gasped excitedly. Her eyes were wide and wild, and she had reflexively jerked the tray she was carrying in her arms upwards out of shock.

Catching the breath that had been stolen from her, she placed a hand to her chest and lowered her head submissively. "She is still not well, milord. She sleeps mostly, and when she is conscious, she remains weak in both voice and vigor."

He straightened in response.

"She was awake when I took my leave. I was just going to… The Lady had wanted to…" she was at a loss for words to explain delicately what she was about to do…

After a pregnant pause, she parted her lips and glanced up her benefactor; her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. She had been up for three days straight, leaving her mistress's side when it was absolutely necessary. For those three days, it was Kishu who would relieve her of her duties when she had to go and fetch an item. Only a handful of servants had been given permission to be anywhere near the Lady's quarters. Among the few who had been given such permission, only she, Kishu, and two of his most trusted servants had been given access to Hisana's room. Hisana was to be watched at all times. The latter was not a direct order; Murasaki just simply refused to let her mistress suffer her illness alone.

"Go and rest," Byakuya ordered softly. His head was raised, and his eyes were fixed on the shoji door behind her.

"Milord," she began, almost pleadingly. "I cannot. My mistress – she requested that I…"

"Now," he interrupted, undeterred.

Murasaki opened her mouth to speak, but quickly drew her lips shut having read his expression. Rarely, did Byakuya lose his temper with his staff. Even rarer, did he outwardly express his emotions. But, as she looked up into his face, she could see that he appeared worn and listless.

"Yes, milord. Forgive my impertinence," she acquiesced, lowering her head. She bowed deeply before departing.

Byakuya stood outside his wife's room for some time afterward. His gaze lingered steadfast on the door.

He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tiredly. This was the first time in two weeks he had returned to his ancestral estate. It had been close to a week since he had last seen  _her_.

He stood with his hand poised on the door.  _'Weakness?'_  he mused solemnly to himself. It had been a  _long_  time since _he_  had felt the weight of apprehension settle in the pit of his stomach. He did not understand the reason why. Perhaps he had only flattered himself by thinking he had mastered his emotions – honed them, conquered them even.

But, now, there was a hesitance residing in his heart that had been unknown to him for some time.

Slowly, he willed himself to draw the door back.

In response to his actions, he was met by a small voice. "Lord…" It was soft and tinged with happiness.

He found it hard to look at her - impossible, even. It had been such a  _long_  time since he had felt so powerless. Such a very, very long time.

"…Byakuya," she finished, trying to pull herself up on her futon so she could properly receive him.

"Don't." His voice was commanding, yet even so she heard it waver.

Byakuya had inclined his head, and closed his eyes. He did not wish to see her struggle in her condition.

Hisana inhaled deeply, and finding enough strength, she managed to pull herself up into seiza. Her posture was decidedly bad, she realized. Her shoulders sloped much more than what was considered proper, and her back was bent. Wearily, she turned her gaze to her husband, who refused to acknowledge her from across the room.

She giggled. "Please, don't tell me you came all the way in here just to  _ignore_  me." Her voice was lilting, perhaps even playfully so.

He stiffened in response; his posture becoming ramrod straight.

She could no longer repress the urge to chuckle. Reflexively, a hand shot up to her mouth in an attempt at shielding her emotional outburst.

Almost a year and he had become easier to read than most.

He looked perturbed by her laughter. Instinctively, his eyes followed the trail of sound until his gaze met hers.

"You try awfully hard," she murmured between giggles.

"I aim to amuse," his voice had an almost bitter quality to it.

Withdrawing her hand from her lips, she straightened slightly, and cocked her head to the side. "Is something the matter?"

His eyes widened briefly in disbelief. She could  _not_  be serious. Could she?

He was beginning to wonder…

"Where is Murasaki?" she digressed.

"I told her to go to bed. She has been without respite for seventy-two hours."

"How terribly selfish of me." Again, she laughed.

His eyes narrowed, having detected a sardonic note to her voice.

"I only asked because I," she paused for a moment before thinking better of it. "Never mind," she added, waving her hand dismissively at the thought.

His gaze hardened as he focused his attention on her…

She looked so blanched. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her lips were pale and cracked. Yet, even despite her frail appearance, there was a gleam in her eye. A gleam that had, only a few days prior, been squelched.

His expression softened as he looked her over. "Hisana…"

She lifted her arm gracefully, beseechingly. "Come, come."

Instinctively, he neared her and took her hand.

Feeling the warmth of his hand pressed against hers, Hisana clamped her small fingers around him. He appeared concern, she noted absently to herself. She hated that look radiating from his eyes. It made her feel so insignificant – not in spirit, but in body. He only gave her that look when she was ailing; it was disconcerting, she thought. He looked as if he was waiting for her shatter at any moment…

Grimly, she tried pushing the thought away, and offered him a smile instead. Testing his grip on her hand, she shifted some of her weight to him. Discerning that he was not as tired as he looked, she tightened her grasp on his hand before pulling herself to her feet.

"No," he countered, but it was too late. She was already standing before him.

Shakily, she tried to step forward but was caught off balance and stumbled. She would have toppled over, she was certain, if her husband hadn't stabilized her efforts. She came crashing head-first into his chest. He was hard and on edge against her exhausted, pliant body. She could feel him tense, having felt her so intimately braced against him.

Feeling his muscles tighten elicited a smile on her part. "I'm sorry, but I…"

She felt so small, so fragile against him. He was afraid that if he were not careful, he might accidently crush her. "Hisana," he murmured; his voice was low, warning her against continuing her current mode of action.

Hisana, however, did not share her husband's concern. She relaxed against his chest. His warmth, his scent, the steady beat of his heart eased her ailing condition more than any traditional medicine could have.

Feeling his once rigid body relax under her, she inclined her head and lifted her gaze. He was exhausted she could tell. His breathing was ragged, his face haggard despite his best efforts to appear otherwise, and his head hung low. Feeling the tightness of his grip around her wane in intensity, she gently shifted her weight under him.

"Where are you going?" he asked softly into her hair.

She smiled, betraying her embarrassment. "To the bath," she answered sheepishly.

Byakuya furrowed his brow questioningly.

Placing a tentative hand against his cheek, Hisana laughed. He looked so perplexed, how could she not? Still maintaining eye-contact, she gently withdrew herself from his grasp. Once free from his support, she found her body heavy and unwieldy, yet she managed a few steps on her own before feeling her equilibrium subside.

Again, her husband lent her the support she needed to steady herself. And, yet again, he held her fast against his chest. "Why?"

Filled with desperation and anxiety, she shook against him.  _'Why can't I do this one thing on my own? Why does my own body resist me so?'_

Hisana lowered her head in defeat. A pained expression stained her face. "Since you sent my handmaiden away, could you help me to the bath?" she muttered harshly, releasing her frustration and anger at her own inability to care for herself.

Byakuya's eyes widened in response as he looked down at her. Her head was turned to the side and her gaze was averted to the floor. Her defiance, he was sure, was the only thing holding back her emotions.

She was utterly humiliated, and almost to the point of tears. She should have waited until the morning. But, she felt just so… Nothing was going to appease her, she was sure. But, the prospect of cleanliness had managed to calm her spirits. She felt so terribly dirty – so terribly sticky and stiff from illness that she could no longer bear the feeling.

Irritated, frustrated, and embarrassed, Hisana was about to pull away when she felt him move to counter her actions.

She was expecting him to release her – to leave. Instead, he gently guided her to the bath.

"Thank you," she replied upon reaching the small changing room.

Stepping inside the small room, Hisana noted that her handmaiden had already placed a fresh yukata out for her after the bath. She smiled at the sight, completely forgetting herself as she shakily neared the sink.

Bracing herself against the counter, she turned to face the door and her husband. His hands were tentatively placed on her shoulders. "Thank you," she said once more, feeling her cheeks heat under his gaze. She lowered her head bashfully and averted her stare.

"You're trembling," he observed, perceptively.

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to force a nervous chuckle… No sound came out. Swallowing hard, she managed to clear her throat.

"I – I," she stammered, glancing down to see that he was indeed correct. She was shivering. The situation had become extraordinarily awkward.

 _'Awkward isn't the half of it,'_  she thought in silent mortification. She was surprised that her brain could form the words she was so unnerved.

"I am." The response was clearly belated. Surprised by her own tongue, she jerked her head up, probing his expression.

If he felt discomfited by the situation then his features did not betray his emotions.

 _'Of course he's impassive, what was I expecting?'_  she considered ruefully.  _'I'm the one who should be embarrassed…'_

So caught up in her own thoughts, she failed to realize that he was gently disrobing her.

She startled the moment she felt one of her robes caress her arms as it slid down her shoulders. "I…" she choked out, horrified as she watched the material pool in the corners of her bent arms.

She looked up into his face. Her eyes searched his for any semblance of expression.

Seeing her distress, he stopped. His features were still locked into a look of stoicism.

She had helped him disrobe to his under-robes before… He was just trying to help her since he had unwittingly relieved her handmaiden of the task. And, she couldn't deny the fact that she needed the aid, but…

She really shouldn't have been behaving so immaturely, but…

He wasn't supposed to help her. Ever. He had done far too much. She couldn't repay the debt to him that she owed already.

 _But_ …

"Thank you," she murmured softly, clutching a handful of his kimono in her hands.

Gently, she ran a hand down his sleeve and took his hand and squeezed it.

Watching her face contort in a look of shame, Byakuya tilted her head upward.

Hisana reluctantly met his gaze. His eyes were calm, tranquil as he bent to stop her lips with his. With soft, careful movements, the two undressed each other before stepping into the bathing room.

After cleansing themselves, Hisana was helped into the deep bath by her husband. Stripped of her clothing – her armor – she proceeded with the utmost modesty. Her gaze was averted, her body tense, and she was sure to hide as much of her body from sight as possible.

Settling into the hot bath water, however, soothed her once rigid muscles. She could feel the warmth of the water seep into every fiber of her being – caressing, relaxing her. Byakuya's steady presence also wrapped around her – enveloping her like a secure blanket.

Less apprehensive of the situation she in which she had found herself, she inhaled a deep breath. Her eyelids felt heavy as did her body. Yet, even despite it all she felt overwhelmed by comfort – a sensation she had not experienced in some time.

"How was your meeting?" she asked softly.

"Which one?" he responded wryly. There had been so many…

Surprised by the silence that followed, Byakuya glanced down to see his wife had fallen asleep in his arms. A small grin lengthened his lips as he observed her. The bath had done wonders for her complexion; her cheeks were now tinted a light shade of pink. The circles around her eyes were diminishing, and her spiritual pressure was slowly beginning to intensify.

Closing his eyes in meditation, he took a deep breath as he remembered back to that troublesome day at the Fourth Division.

_"The cause for her condition is not known… Has she been traveling abroad recently?"_

He couldn't remember the doctor's name. Something with an M, or perhaps an R? Byakuya shook his head – it didn't matter.

_"There has been a 'bug' going around Rukongai lately. Some of the patrol officers have come back with it. It preys on spiritual energy. If she has contracted this virus, then the next few days are critical, Captain…"_

He opened his eyes upon revisiting the thought. Directing his gaze downward, he watched her as she slept. Judging by the rising and falling of her chest, her breathing was even and steady – an improvement, indeed.

_"Although, given her weak and volatile condition, we can't perform some of the more 'invasive' tests to be sure of this… It could be something else…"_

Byakuya pushed the recollection from the forefront of his thoughts. It would do him no good now, especially since it looked as if her condition was improving.

Leaning back in the bath, he turned his gaze to the nearby window. It was dark, he noted. It had been dark when he had returned to the estate. It would probably be dark when he left in the morning. But, there was something different – something in his periphery had caught his attention.

 _'Snow?'_  he mused, shifting his weight slightly to get a better vantage point.

Indeed, it was snowing. A sight he thought surely would not occur that winter. He watched the flurries as they fluttered down at an angle. The first snowfall of winter…

He instinctively turned his gaze to Hisana, feeling temptation course through him. But, she looked so peaceful.

She looked so very calm and peaceful…

* * *

 

When Hisana woke up the next morning, a dreamy smile crossed her lips. Her entire body was tightly wrapped up in the heavy blankets of her futon. Warm and comfortable, she inhaled a deep breath. The air she drank was perfumed with the faint fragrance of her husband. Her smile widened in response. She felt so contented laying there. Reflexively, she slid her hand across the mattress in search of something.

 _'Emptiness,'_  her thoughts resounded sadly in her mind. Indeed, her hand was met with coldness – not the heat she had been anticipating.

Opening her eyes, she could feel the muscles around her lips relax. She was no longer indulging in that dreamy smile for the dream had subsided, and now the bright reality of morning came crashing down around her.

She was alone in her bed.

Confused, Hisana glanced down to confirm her suspicions. She was dressed in a dark indigo yukata. She furrowed her brows at the finding. Gently, she ran a hand down her kimono to make sure that it  _was_  there clinging to her body.

 _'So it wasn't a dream?'_  she wondered, pulling the covers from over her head.

Everything in the room was bathed in white. Acclimating to the brightness, Hisana lifted her eyelids only slightly. Scanning the room, the first thing that caught Hisana's eye was the garden visible through her bedroom window. The garden and pond were now covered in snow.

 _'So very beautiful…'_ she mused, feeling the dreamy smile returning to her lips.

"You're finally awake, Lady Kuchiki!"

Hisana startled upon hearing the unexpected intonations of Murasaki's voice. She reflexively pulled herself up into a sitting position on her futon. "Murasaki," she greeted in a somewhat panic-stricken state.

"You must be feeling better, milady! It has been some time since I've seen your face alight with so much color!"

Hisana smiled kindly in response. "Yes, I do believe I am feeling much better today." She quickly scanned the room for any signs of her husband to no avail.

"Is there something the matter, milady? Something you need? I can get it for you."

Hisana shook her head as her gaze fell to her futon. "No," she replied softly, scanning the unoccupied side of her bed.

"You look saddened, milady."

Hisana feigned a cheerful expression before turning her gaze to her handmaiden. "I suppose such is always the case when one wakes from a dream…"


	14. Epilogue

It was a lazy day at the Kuchiki house, and Hisana was slowly but surely regaining some of her former strength. Dressed in white robes and the haori given to her by her husband, she stepped lightly into the gardens. She was careful – so terribly careful as not to make a sound and alert one of the servants… Cautiously, she treaded down the icy pathway.

Eyeing her surroundings, Hisana's lips sloped into a frown. Everything was dead. The trees were but mere skeletons of their former selves; the bushes were barren. Even the fish swimming in the pond looked like they had seen better days.

She sighed softly to herself, wrapping her arms around her in a vain attempt at generating warmth.  _'Rukongai is terribly harsh during winter,'_  she thought somberly.

She had yet to find her sister, and the thought alone pained her. Every day she was in fair health and even days when she was feeling faint, she prowled the 78th District in search of her sister. And, every day she returned empty-handed.

Hisana shut her eyes briefly; her expression soured.  _'I was lucky…_ _So very lucky, too._ _I was given an opportunity and I threw it away. How very careless of me – how very ungrateful of me. Most are separated from their loved ones upon arrival to Soul Society._ _And, I…_ _I willingly gave her up…'_

"Lady Kuchiki!" It was Murasaki's crisp voice that wafted over the garden. "Come in, milady! It is very cold out here, and you are still not well."

Hisana opened her eyes and briefly gazed into the icy pond. For a moment she glimpsed her reflection. She looked worn, pale, and depressed.

Shaking her head imperceptivity, she turned to face her handmaiden. With all of the strength she could muster, she offered Murasaki a cheerful smile and chuckled.

"Indeed, it is very cold out here. I do not know what madness has possessed me."

Murasaki smiled at her mistress – a soft, perceptive smile.

When Hisana reached the door, Murasaki threw a heavy blanket over her. "Here, milady," she said, politely ushering her back into the warmth and safety of the residence.

Hisana paused mid-step and buckled against her servant's efforts. When Murasaki lifted her gaze to see what had captivated her mistress, she noted that Hisana's attention had returned to the garden.

"Murasaki," she began, softly, "What are those edifices for?"

"Hugh?" was the only intelligible sound Murasaki could make in response. "Oh, those?" she asked, following her mistress's gaze. Instantly, her nerve had been shaken as she comprehended the question more fully. "Surely, you know what their purposes are, milady," she choked out between nervous laughs.

"No, actually, I don't."

Murasaki could have fainted. Her eyes widened and her complexion reddened. "Ugh…"

Furrowing a brow, Hisana laughed at her handmaiden's expression. "What could possibly be their purpose to get you so rattled?"

Realizing that Lady Kuchiki was perfectly earnest in her inquiry, Murasaki felt every muscle in her body tightened as she parted her lips to explain. "One is the birthing hut, and the other…"she paused, lowering her eyes. "The other is the consummation hut," she managed in one quick breath. Her brown eyes flicked up to view her mistress's expression.

"Oh," Hisana murmured, clearly taken aback.

"You did not know?" Murasaki sounded incredulous. "Surely, you must have known, r _ight_?"

Hisana glanced up at her handmaiden. " _Of course_." Judging by Murasaki's expression, she had no choice but to feign honesty.

"Of course," the handmaiden replied, appearing a little apprehensive about the matter.

The moment the two women slipped inside the house, Murasaki slid the door shut behind them. "Today is Lord Kuchiki's birthday. You must be excited, no? Considering this is the first one the two of you will spend together as man and wife."

Any trace of color drained from Hisana's face. "Indeed," she answered hollowly.

"Oh, no, please don't tell me that no one has informed you!"

Hisana looked up wearily at the woman. "No, in fact. Not even Lord Kuchiki himself."

"Oh, dear, this is most unfortunate. Although, I really don't think the Lord likes the attention. That's probably why he failed to mention it to you."

"What usually happens on such an occasion?"

Murasaki lifted a brow; her face contorted in disbelief. "Of course," she mused, "you  _wouldn't_ know would you, coming from Rukongai? Well, typically he receives gifts. But, he mostly sends them back if he can discern the sender. Parties have been attempted, all in vain, I might add. I think by now that Lord Kuchiki just enjoys his solitude."

Hisana smiled politely. "Thank you, Murasaki. I will be sure to honor his wish…"

* * *

 

When Byakuya arrived at the estate, his reception was a quiet one.

"How is the Lady?" he asked, quickening his step as he traveled down one of the corridors.

"She is well, milord," Sugii answered, stopping short of one of the windows looking out onto the garden.  _'Funny, she was just here, I could swear…'_  When he turned his gaze back to Byakuya, he found himself suddenly very alone.

"Damnit," Sugii swore under his breath. "I had yet to tell him about the points of interests for the next meeting of the noble families…"

Byakuya wearily slid back the door to his room. Unnecessarily exhausted from "training" the new recruits, his only desire was to finish the remaining paperwork and turn into bed. This desire, however, changed rather quickly the moment he opened the door and was greeted by the aroma of incense and food. His tired senses immediately awoke with newfound vigor.

"Hisana…" he murmured, lifting his brows imperceptibly at his finding.

She offered him a smooth smile and bowed her head in response. "Milord."

He stood static – still processing what was transpiring in front of him. "A service?" he asked, blinking as if it were a mirage.

She laughed. "You  _forgot_  to tell me today was your birthday."

He blinked again.

"Murasaki was kind enough to notify me of this. She also informed me that you preferred going about the day rather unceremoniously," Hisana continued, straightening her posture and setting her hands in her lap. Her large eyes probed his. Byakuya, she had to admit, did look quite shocked by all of this.

"She was correct."

Hisana smiled in response, lowering her head as she did.

Byakuya took seiza position in front of his wife, who carefully served him his meal. When they were done, she prepared the tea for the evening. With graceful movements, she served him the small cup. Their hands brushed momentarily as he took the tea from her.

She bowed her head and was about to move away when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist. Immediately, she inclined her head and gazed into his face. "Is the tea not to your satisfaction?" She had barely gotten the words out before being silenced by the heat of his mouth against hers.

She laughed, pulling away momentarily. "This is  _not_  part of the service."

"Modification," he retorted, his lips bathing her skin with kisses.

Hisana giggled. It was rare indeed for  _her_  husband to behave so passionately…  _'Perhaps I gave him a bit too much sake,'_  she mused wryly.

" _You_  were not supposed to seduce  _me_ , Lord Kuchiki. My intentions had been quite the contrary."

"But, you admit that seduction  _was_  to be involved?" he stated drily as he tugged her down to the floor.

Hisana smiled as she gazed up into his face. Her hand absently traced the contours of his face as he leaned over her. He no longer looked haggard and worn, she mused. "I have yet to even lay out the futons," she chuckled.

Never in her life did she think she'd see the day when she was the more pragmatic of two…

"I'm sure we won't be the first…" he replied.

 _'But I had this so well planned out,'_ she mused, indulging in an inward smile.

Hisana closed her eyes, acquiescing to the surge of pleasure raking across her skin and churning inside her. His heat, touch, and fragrance possessed her, teased her, and proved to be utterly intoxicating.

_'Plans_ _be_ _damned…'_

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on FFN on December 14, 2007.


End file.
